Koi no Gekidasa Ecstasy
by xSadistxFujix
Summary: AU: When Jiroh and Atobe first met, they thought each other interesting. When they first got together, they were happy. But happiness doesn't last long in face of obstacles. One: Parents. Two: Best friends. Three: Idols. Four: Each other. DISCONTINUED (may rewrite at a later date)
1. Chapter 1

_First off, Happy Birthday Atobe! ^_^ Here is the first chapter of my __**Adorable Pair **__story! Okay, a few things first, this is an __**AU story**__ so there are changes, the main one being the ages of the characters. In this chapter:_

_**Jiroh, Gakuto, Eiji, Fuji**__: sixteen (Fuji is technically four though)_

_**Atobe, Oshitari**__: twenty-one_

_**Marui, Niou, Yagyuu**__: seventeen_

_**Kirihara, Hiyoshi**__: fifteen_

_**Yanagi, Sanada, Yukimura**__: around nineteen or twenty, same as Tezuka and Inui though no mention of the two of them in this chapter at all._

_That's all for this chapter. Other stuff isn't really too important except that only some of them play tennis._

_Props go to my friend __**xxTemarixx**__ for Yagyuu's shirt! Also, I do have a prologue for this up called __**Why Is Kissing Special? **__about Gakuto and Jiroh. This is also the prologue/spin off of my __**Dirty Pair **__stories if you care at all.__This will be __**Rated M**__! So if you don't think you can handle it, please don't read._

_**Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the plot, nya!**_

_Okay, I think that's it. Any questions, feel free to ask!_

_Please read and review, nya! ^_^_

_The theme song for this story is __**Kio no Gekidasa Ecstacy**__ sung by __**Fuji, Shishido, Chitose, and Shiraishi**__._

-

**Chapter One**

* * *

-

Jiroh yawned and laid his head onto his desk, fighting to stay awake to listen to Nanikawa-sensei, but—sadly—he just wasn't in the mood for a history lesson.

His parents had fought _again_ the night before and he couldn't get to sleep because of it, which was saying something with him being narcoleptic. The sixteen year old whimpered quietly as the "loud, passionate conversation"—as his parents liked it to be called—replayed in his head.

_"You bitch!" the sound of glass breaking echoed up from down stairs as the sixteen year old boy covered his head with his feathery pillow. "Just how long have you been sleeping around behind my back?!"_

_"What are you talking about? I slept with him _once, _unlike you who has slept with his secretary more then I'm able to count!"_

Jiroh shook his head against the cool surface of the wood.

_He heard the sound of skin slapping skin and bit his lip from his parents hearing his cries._

_"You will _not _talk to me like that! I am your husband and you are my wife! A wife obeys her husband and doesn't fight back!"_

_"Stop! Stop! Stop—"_

"Stop!"

"Akutagawa-kun? Akutagawa-kun wake up."

"Hey, Jiroh, dude, wake up." Someone shook him and he blinked his eyes open to see his redheaded friend looking at him concerned, the rest of the class behind him.

He looked down at his folded hands. "Sensei, may I go to the nurse?"

The forty-something year old man looked at him behind horned-rimmed glasses for a second before finally nodded.

He hurriedly packed up his stuff and nearly ran out of the room, hearing his friend ask, "May I go with him, sensei?" before rushing off down the hall, ignoring the loud footsteps following him.

"Jiroh, hey Jiroh, wait up!" The redhead caught up to him and stood just to his right. "Did they fight again?" He nodded, the dancer sighed. "You need to get out of that house, Jiroh."

The sunset haired boy rubbed his eyes free of tears. "Stop it Gakuto, it's none of your business." Gakuto looked gob smacked.

"You're my best friend; of _course _it's my business." He stated, slightly offended.

Jiroh looked at him, before breaking into a small smile and stopping in the middle of the hall. The shorter boy stopped with him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. You've been great support. It's just," he stared out of the window next to them into the sunny afternoon. "It's my family and…" he shook his head and continued down the hall, Gakuto walking along beside him. "I don't know."

Gakuto gave a sad smile. "Things will get better." He said, trying to believe himself but not being able to.

He laughed. "Thanks for trying anyways." He yawned. "I'm so tired."

Gakuto pulled him to the bench off to the side of the hall. "You didn't sleep any did you?" Jiroh shook his head and yawned again. "That's not good." He said quietly.

The redhead bit his lip. "I'd walk you home but I've got dance practice, that stupid idiot from Seigaku is going to be coming." He huffed and crossed his arms. "I don't get it, I'm a much better dancer then Kikumaru and yet _he _was chosen as sensei's assistant, not me. What am I doing that is wrong, Jiroh?"

Jiroh frowned for a second.

"Well," he started unsurely. "I did hear that Kikumaru-kun was best friends with you're sensei's nephew. Have you ever heard of Fuji Syuusuke-kun?" He asked curiously as Gakuto gaped.

"Yes! He takes pictures of us sometimes for our website! Sensei is a traitor." He hissed angrily before pouting. "No fair!"

Jiroh patted his friend's head which made Gakuto lean into the comforting touch. "If it helps you any, I think you're the right choice." Jiroh smiled at Gakuto who shifted himself so that his head was lying on the older boy's shoulder and Jiroh's arm was around him. "You are so much better then that Kikumaru-kun."

Gakuto blushed and looked down at his hands. "Really?" he asked shyly, nervous fluttering in his stomach.

The narcoleptic nodded, grinning. "Really," the redhead looked up, noticing their faces were mere inches away before standing suddenly, causing Jiroh to frown in confusion.

He swallowed, looking down at his shoes and folding his hands behind his back like an embarrassed grade schooler. Gakuto's cheeks flamed a dark red to match his hair. "Uh, I think the bell is going to ring soon, Jiroh. We should probably get going before a horde of students come and run us over, don't 'ya think?" he averted his eyes to the ceiling and scratched the back of his neck.

Jiroh stood. "I guess you're right." He yawned. "I've got to go pick something up from the _Sweet Shoppe_ anyways." He nodded matter-of-factly.

Gakuto looked worried. "Are you sure you'll be okay walking by yourself, Jiroh? Because I can call and say I'm going to be a little late if you want me to walk with you. It'll be fine if I do so."

"Thank you," he smiled at his shorter friend. "But I'll be fine Gakuto. And you can't always put dancing off to be with me, dancing is important to you, right? What was that?" he asked as Gakuto mumbled something under his breath.

The redhead shook his head and looked up, giving a "convincing" smile. "It was nothing. If you're sure…"

"I'm sure,"

-

Jiroh just couldn't stop yawning. Now, this was mostly normal for the narcoleptic but this time he felt that something was off. He was _never _tired going to the _Sweet Shoppe _because that meant he got to see Marui.

Marui Bunta was seventeen and went to Rikkai Dai Fuzoku awhile away from Hyoutei, so Jiroh never got to see him. His family owned the shop and he himself was learning to be a pastier, and Jiroh must say, that from the sweets and deserts he had tasted that the older boy made, his dream would definitely come true.

He saw Marui-san as his idol, just as Gakuto saw the singer Oshitari Yuushi as his idol. The pink haired boy was always so nice to him whenever he came to the shop and sometimes even gave him a free sample of his latest yummy edible (not that he would let anybody know that). The sixteen year old absolutely loved him.

But it was strictly platonic… he thinks so anyways.

Jiroh smiled as he entered the _Sweet Shoppe_ and waved to the pink haired teen behind the counter who nodded back before finishing up what he was doing for his costumer.

He sat at the oak counter in the spot facing Marui as the woman left.

A hand ruffled his hair. "Hey Jiroh, how're you doing? Haven't seen you for a few weeks." He blew a bubble with his green colored gum.

He rested his head on his hand. "I've been as fine as can be expected. Gakuto has an audition next month for a street group, that's really sugoi!" he nodded.

Marui gave a small smile and nodded himself. "Okay, you don't have to tell me how you're _really _doing." the apprentice pastier continued before Jiroh had a chance to interrupt. "What was it you wanted?"

Jiroh sighed. "Just some of your fabulous chocolate cake, please Marui-kun?" he smiled charmingly.

The pastier laughed. "Okay," as he went to get the cake the door of the shop slammed open and they both turned to see a narrowed eyed boy holding another boy but the scruff of his neck.

The golden haired boy threw the other one away from him. "Marui-san, can you please tell this _brat _to stop following me every where?"

Marui popped his gum and stared at the one pouting on his chair. "Kirihara, why are you following Hiyoshi-san?"

The "brat" twisted in the chair, looking like an innocent, wide-eyed child. "But Marui-senpai!" he whined pointing at Hiyoshi. "He's being mean to me!"

"Hiyoshi-kun?" Jiroh asked.

The first year's eyes snapped over to the narcoleptic boy before they widened slightly and he bowed in a hurry. "Sumimasen, Akutagawa-senpai, for disturbing you."

Jiroh smiled and waved it off. "Its fine Hiyoshi-kun, you weren't disturbing me."

Straitening up, the golden haired boy threw a glare at Kirihara. "_Don't _follow me." He ordered before stalking out of the shop.

Kirihara went to stand but a hand grabbed the back of his jacket. "Wakashi! Don't leave me! Gghf!" Marui sat him down in front of him, staring at him while he blew another bubble.

It popped.

He shook his head in amusement. "Shouldn't you be at practice Kirihara?" The wild haired boy drew a circle on the counter and mumbled something.

"What was that?"

He averted his eyes. "Well… it's nothing, besides, we don't have practice today as we're getting ready for Yukimura-sama, Sanada-sama, and Yanagi-sama to visit next week." His eyes shown as he stared off into the far wall. "I can't believe I'll actually get to _meet _them! They're legend you know! The _Three Demons of Rikkai_ they were called when they were still in school." He grinned and looked back up at his senpai. "They're only the _best _tennis players in this whole _world_!" he nodded and smiled softly. "I'll beat them someday, I will."

Marui and Jiroh exchanged a look at the matter-of-fact tone this was said in. "They're really strong, you know, Kirihara." Marui stated carefully.

The green-eyed boy looked at him. "You don't think I can?"

He shook his head. "I didn't say that."

Kirihara glared. "But that's what you meant! I'll show everyone! One day, I _will _beat them! All three of them! I'll have them down on their _knees _pleading for mercy when I'm through with them!" He grinned. "And it'll be the best moment of my life… right after Wakashi says yes to going out to me."

The pink haired boy snickered. "I think you have more of a chance beating the'Three Demons' then Hiyoshi-san saying yes to you."

He sneered. "You've no confidence in your kouhai, do you senpai?"

He raised his brow. "In you?" he shook his head. "Nope." His gum popped.

Kirihara bowed his head. "Senpai is mean." His head shot back up. "Oh, and Niou-buchou is coming over and let's just say that… fukubuchou is mad at him." He looked nervous at the thought.

Jiroh looked curious. "Mad?" from the few encounters he had with the guy, Yagyuu-san seemed to be very level headed and not one to get mad easy.

Marui fought off a small grin. "What did Niou do?" but just as he asked, the door to the shop opened and he had to duck behind the counter to keep from laughing as Jiroh chocked on his own saliva and Kirihara snickered behind his hand.

The Hyoutei student was shocked.

"Like my shirt?" Niou grinned, seeing him stare.

Jiroh blushed.

Yagyuu adjusted his glasses. "Niou-kun, please let me change out of this ridiculous shirt. It's embarrassing."

Niou took a step closer to him. "Oh, is my Hiroshi-kun embarrassed by me?" he giggled like a school girl and pushed down the purple haired boy's glasses, getting his hand slapped away in the process. "That's so cute."

Marui got his composure back and stood up, staring at the shirt. "'Wide Receiver'," he read causing Kirihara—who had just calmed down—to start laughing again and turning red. Even Jiroh looked ready to break down.

He looked up at Niou in amusement. "Is there a reason that your shirt says that, Niou?"

The rat-tailed boy tugged Yagyuu toward him and placed a hand on his fukubuchou's chest. Yagyuu decided not to fight him, knowing it was useless.

"Have you read my dear 'Roshi's shirt yet?" His eyes sparkled.

Marui bit his lip and snickered.

Jiroh read it. "Gentle" man. He tilted his head. He didn't get… he turned his head and let out a snort before turning back, a slight smirk on his face.

"Niou-kun forced me," Yagyuu stated as an explanation.

"Why didn't you stop him, Yagyuu-fukubuchou?" Kirihara asked, his eyes shining just as mischievously as Niou.

Something told Jiroh that he already knew.

Yagyuu's glasses flashed and his lips twitched upwards slightly. "Because I'm a gentleman."

They snorted and Niou threw and arm over the other boy's shoulders, smacking a kiss on his cheek. Yagyuu grimaced slightly, though Jiroh could swear he saw him smile.

"Haven't I trained my 'Roshi well?" he twirled the other boy's purple hair.

If Jiroh could see Yagyuu's eyes he was sure he would see him roll them.

Marui set something down in front of him. "Here's your cake Jiroh-kun. Sorry for the wait, I got distracted." He shot Niou and Kirihara a look, popping his gum.

"That's fine," he said, taking the cake and waving goodbye. "See you later, Marui-san. Bye," he said to everyone else before making his way out of the shop.

-

Yawning, Jiroh made his way through the rapidly emptying park as the sky darkened to purple and blue. During the whole time at Marui's he found himself a little more awake but still tired, and now that he was outside and by himself once more, he was just as tired as he had been at schooled.

He rubbed his eyes and gave another yawn.

Jiroh loved to sleep, but it was times like these that he hated his narcolepsy.

Sitting down on a bench under one of the many trees on the lot, Jiroh leaned his head back and closed his eyes, hoping that he would not fall asleep. But he found this difficult as he lay down. The warmth of the air and the soothing sounds of crickets starting up, the breeze of the wind was all too much relaxing and he slowly let his mind be pulled away into sleep.

* * *

"No! You will _listen _to Ore-sama!" A hand slammed down onto a desk, papers flying everywhere with the force of it. "When compared to an Atobe you are a mere _insect_, a worthless little _fly _that is just buzzing around trying not to get squished. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

The man cowering in the chair nodded, gulping.

The silver haired man smirked. "Good, now you will do as _this _Atobe says and get me those _damn _papers!" There was silence as the man in the chair nodded again but was too frightened to move.

His boss stared harder at him and motioned towards the door. "_Now_,"

He stood in a hurry and moved backwards, in the process, knocking the chair to the floor and falling to the ground. "Yes Atobe-sama, I'm sorry Atobe-sama, I will get you those papers." He mumbled nervously, picking up the chair and setting it back into its place before bending and re-organizing his manila envelope before running from the room in fright.

Atobe stood there, looking after him, one hand still placed onto his expensive desk, other placed on his hip, before sighing and making his way to the window.

The golden haze covering the horizon made the place seem beautiful as the sky darkened and the city lights shone brightly.

He snorted and removed something from his pocket; an old fashioned American coin that his… friend—for lack of a better word—had sent him.

Throwing it up, he watched it spin for a few seconds before snatching it out of the air and looking at it.

"Tails, again, damn." He fisted his hand, glanced out the window into the now completely black sky and stormed across his office, throwing the coin behind him, and grabbing his jacket.

As he walked from the room, hands clung to his arm.

He raised his eyebrows at the scantly clothed girl.

"Atobe-sama," she bat her eye's "attractively". "Are you going somewhere?"

The silver haired man fought off a sigh of annoyance. "Yes, actually, Ore-sama is going for a walk." He stated, pointedly looking down at his arm.

She didn't get the message and clung onto him harder, pressing her bosom into his side.

Atobe grimaced.

"Did you want some company Atobe-sama?" She asked hopefully and at the same time trying to sound seductive. To him it just made her repulsive.

He _wasn't _interested in that kind of women.

He looked over her head. "If Ore-sama wanted company, you certainly wouldn't be my first choice." He bluntly said, causing the girl to let him go and look down-crested. The phone rang.

"Shouldn't you be answering Ore-sama's phone in stead of standing here, feeling sorry for yourself?" He pointed over to the machine.

"Uh, hai, Atobe-sama."

Stalking over to the door while putting on his jacket, he threw over his shoulder at her as he opened the door, "And what are you wearing? Ore-sama is paying you to answer his phones, _not _to whore yourself."

Slamming the door shut behind him, he exited the building out into the cool night air.

Brushing his silver hair away from his eyes, Atobe held his head high, ignoring the many awed looks he was receiving from the few people still travelling the streets. The heir was used to getting these looks all throughout his life, no matter where he lived, be it France or Japan. All they did was make his well earned ego grow all the more.

His cell phone rang to the tone of Tango music.

Taking it out of his jacket pocket, he flipped it open and held it to his ear.

"Mushi mushi,"

"Ah, Atobe, you actually answered, I'm surprised." A deep voice said on the other end of the phone.

Atobe glanced at his watch. "Oshitari? Why are you calling Ore-sama? Isn't it early there still?" He could almost see the singer nod.

"About seven-thirty in the morning, yes." Atobe heard the sound of something being whispered. He rolled his eyes. Oshitari and his flirting ways would never change.

When he heard a quiet moan he pulled his phone away from him and looked at it in disgust before putting it back to his ear. "Please tell Ore-sama that you are not doing what I think you're doing, Oshitari."

Another moan.

"Then I shall not tell your magnificence anything."

Skin smacking on skin.

He stopped in the middle of the walkway and closed his eyes. "Oshitari, that is disgusting, Ore-sama is afraid that whatever you had to say to Ore-sama must wait."

"Atobe, hold on a sec—"

He snapped his phone shut and dropped it back into his jacket pocket.

Shaking his head at his "friend" he entered the park that he happened to stop in front of and headed over towards an empty bench.

When he saw a package filled with some kind of sweet (he recognized the packaging as the local _Sweet Shoppe's_) abandoned on the bench he looked around but found no person within the distance who could be a possible owner.

Walking on past the bench he let his mind wander, but it didn't wander too far before he heard the sound of struggles coming from behind a group of dense trees.

"Stop," a voice said, probably a teenage boy.

"Oh, but you're so pretty for a boy, like a newborn pup, I like pups." Atobe wrinkled his nose, smelling the alcohol from his distance away.

He shook his head. What was he thinking about?

Atobe edged closer to the woods.

"Please, just let me go… I'll give you… I'll give you money, whatever you want. I go to Hyoutei!"

Hyoutei? His eyes narrowed. That was _his _school.

"I don't give a crap what school you go to, kid."

"No, listen," the teen said desperately. "It's a very expensive school, I have money, I can pay you, just let me go!"

Atobe looked offended. No, nobody—even if they _were _in trouble—would use Hyoutei as a way to escape.

-

Jiroh struggled against the large arms gripping at him, trying not to gag at the horrible smell mix of Sake, tobacco, and vomit.

The man snorted. "I already said I don't care about your fucking school and I don't want money." He smirked nastily and leaned down, hot breath making its way onto Jiroh's face. "I want this."

The narcoleptic jumped at the feel of a hand on his butt and hugged his arms to his chest, backing up further into the tree.

Reaching behind his back, the big man pulled a knife causing Jiroh to slip down and cower on the cold ground, eyes wide in fright.

He bent down over the sixteen year old, leering at him.

"You're such a beauty," he whispered, running the knife down Jiroh's cheek.

Eyeing the said knife, Jiroh's breathing picked up, _praying _that someone would come along. He should have listened to Gakuto and had him walk with him; this would never have happened if he had just been _smart_.

But he never had been the sharpest tool in the tool shed out of his friends.

He closed his eyes and waited for whatever to happen, happen.

"Ore-sama says you should leave before he calls the police." Wait, who was that?

Jiroh looked up and opened his eyes, gasping when he saw a stranger had taken the knife from the man and was staring threateningly at him.

Sneering, the man taunted, "And what'll 'ya do if I don't?"

The stranger smirked. "Harrison Michael, right? Born American and moved here with your family when you were four, your wife recently left you and you are now bitter. Am I correct?"

"Harrison Michael" looked shocked. "How… how do you know all of that?"

"You work for ore-sama's father." The man said simply. "And if you don't get out of here now, Ore-sama will see that you are out of a job." Before he could even get the sentence completely out of his mouth, Harrison went running from the park.

"He will still be out of work after Ore-sama talks with his father." He looked down at the boy. "Are you okay?"

No answer.

"Ore-sama _said _are you okay and Ore-sama expects you to answer him!" He commanded roughly.

Jiroh stared up with him, eyes starting to glaze over, head feeling slightly heavy before his body fell to the ground in a dead faint.

"Ore-sama" stared. "Shit," he cursed.

Now what was he supposed to do?

-

**_TBC_**


	2. Chapter 2

_Yay, the next chapter! This chapter is mostly conversation, hope you all don't mind! I also want to say before I forget that up until Atobe was 12 years old he lived in France. Yes, France. I got the idea from __**Another Story **__where it was discovered that he moved to Japan from Europe (where he was playing in tennis tournaments)._

_**Disclaimer: All I own is the universe, nya!**_

_Please read and review, nya! ^_^_

_-_

**Chapter Two**

* * *

**-**

Atobe watched the boy sleeping on his bed, confused at what he had just done. Normally he would have just left, finding that whatever was going on was none of his business at all.

But, the sound of the boy's voice as he plead for that guy to leave him alone, it bothered him for some reason.

He sighed and placed a hand over his eyes. This was bad, very, _very _bad. Why it was bad? Well, he didn't have the answer to that yet.

Though he was sure it wouldn't take too long to find out the answer.

He straightened up when the boy groaned and shifted, tangling the sheets slightly.

Slowly, his eyes blinked open, a haze in front of them as he stared around the room. Where exactly was he? He didn't recognize this place.

His head was pounding unbearably.

"Are you alright?" A voice asked. Jiroh looked around to the armchair next to him.

"Who are you?" he asked, voice full of innocence and curiosity. Why didn't he remember anything?

"Atobe Keigo," he answered simply.

"What happened?"

Atobe rose his brow. "You mean you don't remember?" How could somebody _forget _something like that.

Jiroh shook his head. "No, I don't. Gomen."

"Ore-sama," Jiroh tilted his head at that. This person was very arrogant, huh? "Found you in the park. You were…" his voice trailed of for a second. "You were being harassed by a man."

Suddenly, Jiroh smiled. "I remember now, you saved me didn't you?"

"Ore-sama did, yes." He searched his face.

The teenager looked down at the bed sheets and blushed. "Arigato gozimasu, Atobe-sama. If you hadn't come along I…" he frowned, not liking where that thought was going.

Atobe disagreed with him to pacify the boy. "Ore-sama is sure you would have been fine."

Jiroh's shoulder's rose slightly. "Thank you for saying that Atobe-sama but I don't really think so."

Conversation halted and became an awkward silence, neither knowing what to say. They were strangers after all, being brought together in a way that neither of them felt particularly happy about.

"What's your name?" Atobe suddenly asked, surprising the both of him. Why'd he care at all?

He blushed again.

Did this boy blush a lot, Atobe thought.

"Akutagawa Jiroh, but I wouldn't know why you would want to know my name at all. I'm nobody and by the looks of it," he gestured to the large room that seemed fit for a king. "You're definitely somebody."

"You go to Hyoutei Gakuen, don't you?" Jiroh looked surprised, but nodded. "Ore-sama went there, ore-sama was the tennis-buchou."

Jiroh's eyes widened in realization. "You're _that _Atobe-sama? Sugoi…" he had heard stories about him from the teachers, and even a few of the tennis pros had mentioned him a few times.

Atobe nodded and all conversation stopped again.

What was with all of the awkward silences, they both thought.

"How old are you?" Jiroh asked curious, wanting to know more about his savior.

"Twenty-one," he paused. "You?"

"Sixteen," Jiroh wondered why the five year age difference made him a little sad.

Atobe stood. "You are probably hungry, eh?" Jiroh nodded shyly and pushed his hair away from his face. "Come, ore-sama will have the cooks fix you something."

He waited for the teen to stand and when he did, Jiroh felt dizzy, stumbled, and fell into the man's arms. Atobe caught him, stepping back a little so that they would fall to the ground.

Jiroh blushed but didn't let go of Atobe. "Uh, gomen Atobe-sama,"

He shook the apology off. "Its fine," Atobe straightened the boy up and started walking out of the room, listening to the light footsteps of Akutagawa-kun following him. The boy was so small and light and yet he wasn't more then a few inches shorter them himself.

That couldn't be healthy.

"Atobe-sama, you really don't have to, I should probably be getting home." Jiroh bit his lip, wondering exactly how long he had been out.

Turning his head to give him a glance, Atobe said, "Ore-sama can not let someone from Hyoutei not be properly taken care of, plus, unfortunately, it's rather late, or early, depending on how you look at it."

Jiroh looked around as they walked down the hall to see if there were clocks.

There wasn't.

"Um, what time is it exactly?" he tilted his head and sped up to walk besides the older man.

Atobe didn't look over at him.

"Four-thirty,"

Jiroh's eyes went wide. "Four-thirty? In the morning?" Atobe gave a nod. "Oh, I'm going to be in a lot of trouble."

"Ore-sama can give them an excuse if you want ore-sama to." _Why _did he say he would do that?

He shook his head. "No, you better not. I'll just tell them I was over at a friends, that would be better since they know him… at least… maybe it won't comfort them." His parents never were really fond of Gakuto.

Atobe glanced at him. "Why don't you just tell them the truth?"

"I couldn't, that would just make them mad. I'm not supposed to walk alone at all. I've got narcolepsy and it can get dangerous if I decide to sit somewhere, especially when I'm tired. I was very tired yesterday. I hadn't gotten much sleep." He pursed his lips as the entered the kitchen. "That's probably why I slept for such a long time actually."

"What would you like?" Atobe asked.

Jiroh looked over at the ruffled looking cook. "Anything really, but I can make it myself, I know how to cook."

The rich man waved it off and sat him down at the table. "No, you shall not, this is what he's paid for and you should rest." He sat down next to him at the head of the table.

Narrowing his eyes in confusion, Jiroh asked, "Why do you even care? It's not like you know me, or I know you, or we're anything to each other. We just met and you don't exactly seem like the type of person to care what happens to others unless it's beneficial to you in some way."

Atobe raised his brow at that. "For someone ore-sama just met, you sure do know a lot about ore-sama."

He shrugged a shoulder. "Well 'ore-sama' isn't exactly that difficult for me to read. And calling yourself 'ore-sama' is very arrogant of you."

Smirking, he chuckled. "You say whatever comes to your mind, don't you?"

Jiroh smiled slightly. "I don't see the reason not to. Does that bother you?"

He shook his head. "No, ore-sama likes that about a person actually. Shows you have confidence and aren't a pushover."

"Do I _seem _like a pushover?" he gave a small yawn.

"Just by looking at you? Yes." His lips twitched. "Are you still tired?"

Jiroh yawned again. "I'm always tired, well, unless I'm around Marui-san! He's sugoi." He nodded. "Oh, and just because I'm narcoleptic, doesn't mean I don't know things. But that's nice to know I look like a pushover." He giggled. "Perhaps I can change that."

A plate was set down in front of him. Jiroh smiled up at the cook. "Arigato,"

Atobe watched him as he ate. "You're hungry, eh?"

He swallowed and nodded. "Mh-mhm, the last thing I ate was a little bit of Marui-san's chocolate cake! While good it isn't exactly filling unless you eat the whole thing! I know from experience." He grinned and went back to eating.

There was silence for a few minutes while the teen ate. Suddenly, Jiroh looked up at him and smiled softly. "Tell me about yourself."

Atobe looked surprised. "Eh? Why?"

Jiroh laughed. "Because I want to know more about the person who saved me, of course. If you tell me about you, I'll tell you whatever about me that you want to know! You can ask questions, too."

He was exactly sure why he found that a pleasing trade. "Fine, ore-sama guesses. What do you want to know?"

His eyes widened happily. "I get to ask questions?" Atobe nodded and Jiroh grinned. "Sugoi! Ne, ne, how long have you lived in Japan?"

"What makes you think ore-sama hasn't lived here all ore-sama's life?" He asked curiously.

Jiroh tilted his head and pursed his lips. "Well, you _could _have lived here all your life, but—to me—it just doesn't seem like it." He shrugged. "I don't know why."

"Well," he started. "You're right. Ore-sama moved here from France when ore-sama was twelve."

"Sugoi…" he whispered, eyes beaming. "Can you speak something in French? Please?"

Atobe chuckled. "Vous êtes excité facilement."

Jiroh gaped. "What does that _mean_?"

He laughed again. "It means, you are excited easily."

"Oh," he blinked then nodded. "It's true, I am." He smiled slightly down at his plate.

Atobe frowned. "Is it not to your liking?"

Jiroh shook his head. "No, it's perfect, I was just thinking."

"About what?" He asked, not sure why he was interested. He had just met him and suddenly wanted to know so much about him.

Things just weren't making any sense to him.

"Nothing really," he sighed. "I really should go home Atobe-sama."

"Do you have a way to get into your house? Because ore-sama should hope your parents don't leave the doors unlocked." Atobe stated.

Jiroh frowned thoughtfully. "Well, _no_ but…"

Atobe placed a hand on the table. "Then you should stay here for the night, ore-sama commands it." He said, grasping at the chance… for some reason beyond himself.

"But, school, I…" Jiroh reluctantly tried to find an excuse to go home. He didn't _want _to leave.

"Ore-sama will have the driver drop you off on ore-sama's way to work. Ore-sama went to Hyoutei, we know where it is." He waved off his lousy excuse and stood.

Jiroh stood with him. "But, my uniform," he looked down at himself finding that he wasn't wearing it and looked at Atobe, confused.

He smirked. "Ore-sama is having it washed."

"Oh," he pursed his lips cutely.

_Cutely?_ What was _that _about?

_Well_, a part of Atobe's mind started to say as way of explanation, _the boy is rather attractive… for a boy._

He shook those kinds of thoughts from his head and went back on his way towards his room, Jiroh following him.

"Why are you trying to have me stay so badly, Atobe-sama?" He smiled a little slyly.

"Because it is late, you are a high schooler, you need your sleep, and ore-sama doesn't particularly fancy driving you home." He answered, knowing it wasn't the truth but not knowing what the correct truth was.

"Hmm, wouldn't your driver be driving?" It was difficult to imagine Atobe-sama driving… unless it was some very expensive sports car.

He could so imagine Atobe-sama driving a black sports car, the hood down, sunglasses in his eyes, hair flying in the wind, and himself in the passenger seat—

Wait, _what_?

Jiroh shook his head and blushed. Where did _that _image come from?

Atobe rolled his eyes. "But ore-sama would be coming to make sure that ore-sama's car isn't wrecked. If anything happened to it, ore-sama would like to fire that blasted driver before ore-sama murdered him."

He giggled at that. "You care so much about your car, but what if it got wrecked so badly that everybody in it _died_?"

"Ore-sama wouldn't die because then ore-sama would sue the car company." His lips twitched upwards at his own response.

Jiroh outright laughed at that. "You're funny Atobe-sama," he grabbed his arm and grinned up at him. Atobe cast the offending arm a glance but paid it no more mind. "I _like _you!"

"Eh?" he questioned. He _liked _him? How could the boy like someone he hardly knew?

Jiroh skipped lightly but not enough to where it would bother his older companion. "But I guess that isn't saying much, I like everybody! I like my teachers, my classmates, the people at rivals schools, Marui-san, and Kirihara-kun, and Niou-san, and Yagyuu-san, and Hiyoshi-chan, and of course I _love _Gakuto!" He grinned excitedly.

"Gakuto?"

He nodded. "Mhm, Mukahi Gakuto! My bestest friend _ever_." He said childishly. It was… adorable, Atobe had to admit. "I love him, he loves me too, I know that will never change." He frowned. "But sometimes I wonder why things get so _awkward _around him. Like today—or yesterday, I guess—we were talking when he suddenly turned red and jumped up from the bench. I wonder why that was."

Atobe raised an eyebrow at that but decided no to say anything to the teenager. _Let him figure that one out on his own_, a part of him said.

The other part wanted to see this boy's face if he found out his "bestest friend ever" liked him a bit more then a friend. _That _was sure to be amusing, but Atobe wasn't that cruel.

They stopped in front of a door Jiroh didn't recognize. "Ore-sama is guessing that you would like to take a shower?" He nodded and Atobe opened the room to a large bathroom decorated in gold, white, and black.

There was a tub in the middle that Jiroh was sure could fit ten people.

"Sugoi…" he said quietly, eyes wide to the size of saucers. Atobe smiled at his reaction and gently pushed him in, sure that he would move on his own.

"Ore-sama will have a maid bring you something to wear after your shower is done and then you can get a little more sleep before you have to go to school. Ore-sama is sure you're tired." He added when Jiroh yawned.

He nodded. "Sleep would be nice, sleep would be always nice." Just as the heir was going to close the bathroom door, Jiroh stopped him with a hand and smiled up at him. "Thank you Atobe-sama, I'm sure a lot of people wouldn't do this and I would never expect you to be someone that would. I've heard plenty about you from people, and I thought you would have been some horrible person by the sound of it." Jiroh looked down and smiled, shifting his feet. "Imagine how pleasantly surprised to find that I was wrong! Thank you, again." He closed the door, and Atobe was left there blinking.

-

Atobe pursed his lips as he sat in his office chair while the teen took a shower. Not a horrible person, eh? Well he was sure that there would be plenty of people that disagreed with that statement.

He laughed and flung his head back slightly. Not horrible? He himself had to disagree with that statement.

But—he figured—that since Akutagawa-kun had just met him, he would give him time to realize that he was—indeed—a horrible person who cared nothing about others' feelings and only his and his family's money.

It probably wouldn't take long for him to find that out, actually, as—despite being narcoleptic and sleeping most of the time he guessed—that Akutagawa boy seemed impeccably observant.

That… intrigued him a bit, he was willing to admit. He could understand why this Mukahi Gakuto person had fallen for his friend, it seemed rather easy to do so after all.

He shook that off, there was no need for thoughts like that.

Atobe didn't actually mind the fact that he was a boy so much that he was a _teenager _and that just… just _wasn't _right. Not in the least, plus, he was to be married soon and it would do no good for them to start something that would never be able to last.

He gave an annoyed sigh. Why was he even thinking of this? He hardly knew the teen, let alone actually _like _him. Atobe liked few people, if any at all. Actually, the only person he even sometimes liked was his old friend Oshitari Yuushi, but he was now off in America seeking a singing career.

Singing? He scoffed. Oshitari could have done so much better.

But… it was his choice.

It wasn't the choice he would've made though, not in the least.

-

Jiroh lay in the big fluffy bed, beyond comfortable but not able to get to sleep for some reason.

He didn't understand why not, at the moment he was the most at ease then he had ever been before. Surprisingly enough, he actually liked this large room filled with extravagance. Not that his house wasn't large, because it was (you had to be rich to be at Hyoutei), but his house didn't even begin to _compare _to this one and he had always thought he would rather live in a small house, cozy, warm.

Well, no, he still did, but there was something about this place that he liked more so.

Probably the bed, huh? _Yeah, it's the bed, _he decided, smiling and rolling over.

Jiroh had meant what he said about Atobe-sama being nice. He knew very few people that would actually have helped it at risk of their own health (he wasn't as oblivious to people and their intentions as people thought, as even _Gakuto _thought), but for some reason, one of the last people he had ever thought would do something like that _did_, and that made him happy for some reason.

That was the last time he judged someone on what other people say without knowing the person before hand.

But why did he feel as if Atobe-sama hadn't agreed with what he said about him?

He shrugged to himself, maybe he would find out.

Jiroh yawned and closed his eyes. He wondered if Atobe-sama would mind talking to him again someday.

* * *

Gakuto watched in amazement as the stretch-limo pulled up at the Hyoutei gates along with everyone else. The whispers around him all repeated the same thing.

"Is it someone famous?"

"What if it's a magazine come to take one of our pictures?"

"Let it be Oshitari-san!"

Truthfully, he kind of hoped it _was _the last one—Oshitari Yuushi _was _his _idol _after all—but he would _never _tell anybody that little thought.

He was even more shocked by who stepped out of expensive car along with everyone else.

"Uh, thank you for the ride… Atobe-sama." Jiroh stated, blushing, all too aware of the hundreds of eyes on him.

"Atobe-sama?!"

"As in _the _Atobe-sama? Hyoutei's former tennis-buchou?!"

"What other Atobe-sama _is _there?"

The silver haired man smiled up at the teenager. "It is no problem, Akutagawa-kun. Ore-sama is happy he could help. Have a nice day at school and perhaps you might see ore-sama again. Driver." The driver closed the door and got in the driver's seat.

"I hope so," Jiroh whispered, watching the car drive off.

Slowly, Gakuto walked up to him as everyone started to walk away, loosing interest now that Atobe Keigo was no longer there, though a few curious gossipers stayed and wondered why _Akutagawa Jiroh _of all people had been with him.

The redhead gave a forced smile and swallowed tightly. "So, uh, what was _that _about, eh? Atobe Keigo? What a catch."

Jiroh nodded absently, not actually listening.

Pursing his lips angrily, Gakuto snapped his fingers in front of his friend's face and was happy when it pulled Jiroh's attention back to him.

"I'm sorry Gakuto, what did you say?"

He bit his lip to from screaming at him and crossed his arms, rocking back on his heels and shrugging. "It was nothing, just wondering how you met Atobe Keigo."

"Oh," Jiroh looked down at his shoes nervously and tugged a curl behind his ear. "It's a long story actually." He looked up and gave a bashful grin.

Gakuto smiled for real this time and hooked his arm around the older boy's. "I've got time. Always time for you Jiroh."

Jiroh's grin widened and he pulled his friend along towards the school. "Okay, but don't get mad and go on a crazy rampage for revenge, I'm fine, seriously."

The redhead was immediately alert and checked his friend for any wounds, making him laugh. "Are you hurt, Jiroh? Tell me who did it and what, I'll beat the fucking shit out of the bastards!"

"Gakuto! I told you _not _to get mad, I'm fine, I really am." He laughed loudly and continued pulling his friend.

The dancer frowned. "Well, if you're sure. Continue on," he stated, eager to hear more of the narcoleptic boy's voice.

Atobe opened the door to his office, walked in, and hung up his jacket. That was definitely an arrival for the teenager.

He chuckled, knowing that Akutagawa-kun hadn't exactly expected there to be such a crowd. Despite the fact that Atobe knew just how observant the boy was, he was also rather innocent and oblivious in some things.

_Just not when it came to people_, he added to himself but thinking that wasn't exactly true. After all, the boy had called him _nice_. That… that just _wasn't _him.

Horrible—as he said he thought he would be—was a much more accurate description of him.

But—he figured—that he couldn't change the mind of someone who already made theirs up and he didn't actually _want _to change his mind. It was a nice feeling, having someone think he wasn't a bad, disgusting, lowlife, person.

Well, he was, but maybe not in those _exact _terms.

He at least _hoped _it wasn't in those exact terms.

Walking further into the room, he grabbed the papers over by the couch and walked towards his desk, resulting in him stepping on something quite solid.

He looked down at it curiously and bent down to see the American coin Oshitari had given him when he visited a few years ago.

Picking it up, he stared at it, lips pursed before sighing and giving an ironic laugh.

Atobe stood, turning the coin over his hands. How funny, just before he had left yesterday, he had flipped it and it had landed on tails, but when he threw it behind him it had landed on heads. That was just too funny to be true.

He set it down on his desk and walked over to the window, staring off into the distance. The silver haired man raised a hand to partially cover his face and looked at stared at his old school only about a mile or so away.

Giving a small sarcastic smile, he looked back over at the coin and shook his head. "You have _got _to be kidding ore-sama."

-

**_TBC_**


	3. Chapter 3

_I've not even STARTED chapter four yet, but I just needed to get this chapter out! There is only a very small short, barely thirty second meeting between Jiroh and Atobe and that's it. I had trouble with this chapter. I'm trying to get Atobe and Jiroh together because the drama isn't them actually getting together, in fact the story isn't really ABOUT them getting together, it's about what happens after it. Hope you enjoy it though! You get to meet an OC of mine!_

_**Disclaimer: All I own is the universe, nya!**_

_Please Read and Review, nya! ^_^_

_-_

**Chapter Three**

* * *

**-**

Gakuto hugged his pillow to his chest, staring thoughtfully at the picture on his desk. It was a picture of him and Jiroh on their first day of high school standing in front of the gates of Hyoutei, arms around each other and fingers making a "V" sign.

He loved that picture.

The redhead sighed and rolled over onto his back, still clutching the pillow to him and looking up at the childish paintings he and Jiroh had made over his bed when they were still in middle school. There was one large painting and bordering it was a bunch of little ones. The border consisted of cake and pie and other sweets, pillows and stuffed animals, music symbols and head phones, dancing shoes, tennis rackets (their favorite sport, besides dancing for Gakuto), and many other things representing the two of them.

But the picture had never been finished, when Gakuto's parents had seen what they had done they had gotten in trouble, but—since most of it was already done—they decided to keep it there as long as they added no more to it.

They agreed but weren't happy about it.

So, the picture just consisted of the two of them under their favorite tree at Hyoutei Gakuen, but Gakuto still wished it could be finished.

Frowning, the dancer stood from his bed and made his way to his closet. He opened it and bent down on his knees to search for his old paint supplies.

Why he had ever had them in the first place, he couldn't remember, but, if they helped him to finish this, he might just decide to keep them around.

Pushing a few boxes of old things he had still yet to get rid of, he grabbed a wooden kit, stood, and jumped back onto his bed, setting the paints down on his table.

Choosing a black color so that it would show up on the green of the grass, Gakuto stood on his bed, bit his lip, and nervously started painting on the picture. Now that he was taller (not tall because he _wasn't _tall) he found this a little bit easier. But he wondered exactly how they had accomplished painting the whole picture when they were twelve and short(er).

Slowly and carefully, he moved his hand in elegant motions, trying to neatly write the words. When he was finished, he pulled his arm back and smiled, stomach doing weird flips.

_Akutugawa Jiroh and Mukahi Gakuto:_

_Friends Forever._

He would make sure that the words on the wall would come true, but—if he had his way—they would be more then that…

-

Jiroh stared unblinkingly in front of him, a small smile on his face.

Gakuto glanced over at him and rolled his eyes; he was probably thinking about that Atobe person again. He scowled. What did that jerk have that he didn't? Money? He had money, just not as much. Looks? Well, maybe he wasn't the best looking person in the world, but he wasn't the worst either.

Besides, Jiroh didn't care about those things.

He bit his lip. What did Jiroh care about? He cared about personality, and a sense of humor, and… kindness?

The redhead frowned. He wasn't all that kind, he was to Jiroh, but to other people? Forget it.

But—then again—he would bet everything he had that this Atobe Keigo person wasn't even the littlest bit nice either. So what was it?

Gakuto poked his shoulder. "Jiroh," the wavy haired boy blinked and looked over at him.

"Huh?" Jiroh yawned, suddenly feeling tired now that he was aware of his surroundings again. "What is it, Gakuto?"

He shook his head and shrugged, looking down at his bento. "Thinking about Atobe again?" _Please let the answer be no_, he hoped to himself.

Jiroh blushed and nodded. Gakuto felt his heart fall.

"Atobe-sama is absolutely amazing. He saved me and then he took care of me. All of those people who say he isn't a nice person were very, _very _wrong about him." He nodded his head again and grinned, eyes sparkling. "I was surprised myself! It was strange, while I was talking I was still a little tired, but that's to be expected, but I didn't actually want to sleep, I just wanted to keep talking to him, to learn more about him. Is that strange?"

The narcoleptic boy was looking at him so innocently and curiously that Gakuto just had to say no despite the fact that he wanted to say yes.

"I don't think so," he pursed his lips. "I mean, you must like him, huh?" he forced a smile onto his face.

He turned even redder and poked at his food. "Like him?" he gave a shy giggle. "Maybe, how would I know though? I've never liked anyone like _that _before." Jiroh looked up at his friend beneath his lashes. "Do _you _Gakuto?"

Gakuto dropped his chopsticks and scratched his neck. He gave a nervous smile. "Me? Like someone? Very funny." He averted his eyes.

Jiroh tilted his head and smiled slyly. "You can tell me, Gakuto! I'm your best friend!"

He pursed his lips and rested his chin on a hand. "That's the reason I can't tell you." He mumbled quietly.

The narcoleptic boy looked confused. "What?"

Gakuto shook his head. "It's nothing, Jiroh." He smiled forcibly.

Jiroh decided to let it go… for now.

He covered one of Gakuto's hands with his. Gakuto jumped before relaxing and smiling softly, squeezing the hand a little. "Either way, even if I do like him Gakuto, you shouldn't be worried."

"Eh?" he looked at him.

Smiling, Jiroh said, "That's what your worried about, isn't it? Me forgetting you? Nothing could ever take your place. You will forever be my best friend and nothing will change that."

Gakuto told himself not to cry. "Friends, right."

Jiroh removed his hand and picked up his chopsticks. "So, do you want to do something tonight or do you have dance?"

The redhead pushed away his bento, not feeling particularly hungry anymore.

"Nope, no practice tonight. What did you have in mind, exactly?" he asked, looking back down at the table.

"Why don't we go see a movie? We haven't done that in awhile." Gakuto bit his lip; that seemed too much like a date.

He smiled. "Sure, why not?"

-

"Eh? Heads, huh? How odd, you only ever get tails." Oshitari said through the phone to his friend.

"Ore-sama thinks it's a mere coincidence that it landed on heads." Atobe answered back, flipping through a file of papers before pushing them away and spinning in his chair to stare out of the window.

"But you met this boy, didn't you Atobe? What was he like?" Atobe heard some shuffling on the other side, but decided to ignore it.

"…Ore-sama doesn't date teenage boys."

Oshitari chuckled. "I didn't say that, did I? I just asked a simple question. What was he like Atobe?"

The silver haired man thought for a second before answering. "Observant for a person with narcolepsy, that's for sure."

"Narcolepsy? Really?" he laughed again. "You have interesting taste Atobe."

Atobe glared at the phone but decided to let it go. "He is also hyper and likes to smile."

"So the opposite of you then, eh Atobe?" the heir could nearly see his friend smirking.

"Ore-sama commands you be quiet!"

Oshitari snorted. "You can't command me to do anything Atobe, especially when I'm a _very _long ways away. Anyways, tell me more about him. I'd like to know who this person that got my coldhearted friend to melt some and so quickly too."

Atobe leaned back in his chair. "Nobody can get ore-sama to melt, Oshitari. You are just saying what you wish. Ore-sama _doesn't _like him and that is that."

"Atobe," Oshitari sighed. "You may be able to fool yourself but not me. I've known you since we were first years in middle school. Just by the fact that you're answering shows you want to talk about him, so talk about him. I don't mind." He won. "So, tell me about him."

"Fine, well, ore-sama really doesn't know all that much about him. Ore-sama does know that his friend likes him though." He frowned.

"Likes him?" he laughed. "Well I should hope so, or else I would wonder why they were friends."

Atobe rolled his eyes. "You know what ore-sama means Oshitari."

"Hai, hai," there was some more shuffling.

His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing anyways?"

There was a dark chuckle. "Oh, betsuni Atobe."

"Right," he shook the thoughts off. "Ore-sama gets the feeling he likes sweets, especially the kind from the _Sweet Shoppe_ that one family owns."

"Ah, the Marui-sans, right? Their son goes to Rikkai Dai Fuzoku, I believe."

"Hai, it's almost like Akutagawa-kun's personality contradicts itself." He spun in his chair.

"Is it adorable?" Oshitari asked slyly.

"It is, ore-sama—don't trick _ore-sama_!" Atobe screamed into the phone, standing up.

"Oh, fine, if you want me to be bor—hmn, nah…" quiet sounds came from the other side of the phone as Atobe rolled his eyes and sat back down in his chair.

"Must you _always _have sex while talking to ore-sama?"

A chuckle. "Well, I was being quiet."

"Yes, until ore-sama heard some moans." He said dryly, glancing over at the clock. "Ore-sama must go anyways; ore-sama has a meeting."

"Wait, Atobe!—"

He hung up the phone.

Atobe shook his head. Oshitari, what was he going to do with him? That man must have had a thing for having sex while people are listening.

He grimaced and stood. And Atobe definitely did _not _have a thing about listening to him having sex.

The sound of a door slamming open made the heir turn around, startled (not that he would ever admit this). His own office door was thrown open and—not being able to stop himself—he gaped.

"I'm sorry Atobe-sama, she—"

"Mother!" he exclaimed, getting a hold of himself. "What are you doing here?"

The woman had soft chocolate brown curls that whipped around her face and hung in an elegant braid across her right shoulder, her large seemed too big but fit her personality, and her off the shoulder dress that ended just below her knees looked rather expensive.

Atobe knew that this was all true.

The woman's lips turned further upwards, dark red lipstick stretching with them.

"Can't a mother see her darling child?" She kissed both of his cheeks, the silver haired man fought off a grimace.

She took a hold of his arms and looked up at him. "I feel as if I've not seen you for ages."

"We saw each other this weekend." He reminded her, deadpanned.

Waving it off, she said, "But that's _beside _the point. I…" her voice trailed off as she turned back to the receptionist. "Leave us," the girl bowed out and closed the door behind her.

His mother—Atobe Cecilia—turned back to her son and clapped her hands together. "What are you doing today?"

Laying a hand on his desk, he stated, "Well, ore-sama has a meeting—"

She beamed. "Good, nothing important then, right?" she asked rhetorically before going on.

"Right, nothing important." He muttered.

"What was that?" he shook his head. "Well then, what should the two of us do today?"

Knowing that there was no way to get out of this; Atobe glanced over at the clock again. "It's still early out," he told her. "Why don't we… go to lunch?"

"Oh! That's a _wonderful _suggestion." She wrapped her hands around his left arm and started to pull him out of his office. "Let's see, where shall we go? There is that lovely new restaurant in the middle of town. It's not too far and it's beautiful outside! Why don't we walk?"

"Sure, mother." He barely got his jacket from next to his door before it slammed shut behind them.

* * *

Jiroh tried to focus on the movie, he honestly _did_, but he was just so _tired_.

Yawning, the sleepy boy let his head fall onto the shoulder of the person next to him, not noticing how the other boy stiffened and stopped breathing at the contact. He just knew that the shoulder was comfortable and he wanted to sleep.

Gakuto fought from glancing down at his older friend and made himself start to breathe again, because not breathing was _bad_; it wouldn't solve anything not to breath.

But at least he didn't have to smell that deliciously, sweet smell that was Jiroh when he didn't breath.

He held his breath.

Because not breathing and passing out was _so _much better then breathing and fainting from blood-loss.

At least, Gakuto thought so.

Shifting so that he could put his arm around his friend's shoulder, the teen began to breathe again, deciding just to try to survive the movie. After all, Jiroh hadn't been sleeping properly lately and needed all the sleep he could get—as long as he was safe. And Gakuto could assure his friend that he was indeed safe with him.

If you couldn't be safe with your best friend, then who _could _you be safe with?

That was a question Gakuto didn't really need the answer to, because he'd always have his best friend.

Best friend. He wondered why those two words were always so depressing.

He knew his feelings for the older boy, but that didn't change the fact that they would always be friends first and foremost.

But why _couldn't_ that change?

The redhead knew he was whining, but he couldn't help it. Whining was about all he could do about this. At least, that's what he told himself and why wouldn't he listen to himself?

It was just _stupid _if he didn't.

When the movie ended and the lights came back on, Gakuto slowly and carefully started to wake his friend.

Groggily, Jiroh yawned and blinked up at him before looking around. "Oh, did I fall asleep? I'm sorry,"

Gakuto smiled. "Don't mind Jiroh, its fine, you need your sleep." The dancer pulled his friend up and they began walking out of the theater together.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and woke himself up a little more. "I guess," Jiroh shrugged. "How was the movie, then?"

"Lame, just a cheesy, over-clichéd movie that the film industry thinks everyone likes." He answered. "I was mostly just watching you sleep." They paused. "That didn't come out how I meant it to."

Jiroh laughed. "I know what you mean, it's fine Gak-u-to!" the blonde skipped lightly ahead. "Come catch me Gaku-chan!" the older boy took off running down the street.

Gakuto just stood there for a second, smiling and laughing at his friend before shaking his head and making his way after his childhood friend.

"How is father? Ore-sama hasn't talked to him in a few weeks." Atobe Keigo stated as he set his glass back on the table.

Cecilia smiled lightly. "He is doing fine, as you should know business is going well, and one of his rather rich clients has this lovely daughter—"

Atobe closed his eyes. "Mother, please, not now." He opened them and stared at her. "Ore-sama is rather busy at the moment and doesn't have _time _for…_that _kind of stuff."

The lady sighed as her son shrugged off the topic. "Keigo, it's going to happen someday, I don't know why you keep trying to put it off." She grabbed her hat as a large gust of wind flew past them and the leaves rustled past, some coming loose and flew through the spring air.

He glanced at her and took a small bite of his food. "Ore-sama is not, but ore-sama is only twenty-one years old." The heir said, trying to control his voice.

"Twenty-one years old is the age we settled on years ago, Keigo, you know that." She rebutted almost harshly.

Atobe gave a bitter smile. "Things change," he took a rather big gulp of his drink.

Cecilia glared. "Stop that, now, you're acting like your father."

"Isn't that how ore-sama is supposed to act?"

They were both silent for a moment. "Fine," Cecilia went on. "We'll end this conversation for now, Keigo, but don't expect to be able to run away from it all the time because sooner rather than later we're going to have to have this talk and it _will _be with your father the next time and you _will _have to accept that." She replaced her hat on her head and stood, gesturing the waiter over.

After they had paid, they went on their way back towards Atobe's office.

"I'll have my driver pick me up there if you don't mind, Keigo, I—"

There was a loud sound like laughter just as something collided with Atobe. The heir grabbed it around the middle and braced himself from keeping them from falling to the hard ground beneath them.

The thing fisted his hand in Atobe's expensive shirt and around his arm to steady itself as it started to apologize profusely.

"Gomen! Gomen! Sumimasen! I'm sorry! I—" it blinked as it looked up. "Atobe-sama."

The silver haired man shook and cleared his head. "Ah—Akutagawa-kun, right?" He asked as he realized who it was.

Jiroh nodded and blushed. "A…aa, hai, gomen!"

"It's fine," he stared down at him as there was a small cough off to his right.

"And who is this Keigo? One of your friends?" Cecilia smiled.

The teen turned even more red as Atobe fought off his own blush and straightened themselves before letting go of the sixteen year old.

He turned to his mother. "This is Akutagawa Jiroh, he currently goes to Hyoutei. Ore-sama met him in the park a few days ago."

She now grinned. "Hyoutei? My Keigo went there but I'm sure you know that and who are you?" she asked the redhead standing a few feet behind the blonde, panting difficulty."

The other boy froze.

Jiroh grinned and ran over to him and wrapped his arms around him. "This is my best friend Mukahi Gakuto! Sorry he can't talk right now, he was chasing me and he gets tired easily. Not great stamina for a dancer." The redhead glared at his friend but Jiroh merely laughed and shrugged. "You can't say it's not the truth Gakuto."

Catching hold of his breath, Gakuto grabbed his friend's wrist and started tugging him down the street. "Time to go Jiroh, I told my mom I'd be home by seven."

"But it's only five-thirty!" he complained, glancing over at the man staring at them. "Bye Atobe-sama!" he waved and grinned.

Atobe nodded to him as the redhead cast a harsh glare his way. He raised an eyebrow. Ah, that was right, this Mukahi kid had a crush on Akutagawa-kun.

Cecilia took a step toward her son with a questioning look as he continued to stare off after them. "Keigo?"

Snapping out of it, the silver haired man looked at his mother. "Ah, hai, let's go." But as they continued on their way, he couldn't help but to keep throwing glances back over his shoulder.

-

**_TBC_**


	4. Chapter 4

_Okay, so this chapter gets rather cheesy at the end, and I'm sorry for the wait. This chapter gave me problems and I rewrote the beginning three times but I do like how it turned out. I wrote three-fourths of it today, this morning. Like, seriously. I hope you enjoy it! Oh, and I actually sorta like Atobe's father, but I know what happens so… -shrugs- and please don't hate Kenta!... I guess I should actually put that for __**Gin no Ken **__my next Dirty Pair AU story in the series (that is a spinoff/sorta sequel of this) as he's in that one more but all well. –shrugs- I'll put it there to._

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything, nya!**

_Please read and review, nya! ^_^_

_-_

**Chapter Four**

* * *

-

Jiroh sighed and leaned back into his pillows, wanting absolutely nothing more than to be deaf in that moment. It was absolute torture having to listen to his parent's fight constantly about what used to be and what now was.

He knew what some people would say, "At least they aren't abusive parents." But they were wrong, this was so much worse to him.

All the time his parents made up excuses to fight each other, only so that they could take out their anger in some way, and despite the absolute ridiculousness of the thought that he couldn't hear them, they always denied that they fought and what was the real reason they fought.

Jiroh, though, knew what the real reason was. He just didn't like to think about it.

Biting his lip, the blonde rolled over and threw the covers over his head, trying to block out the sound. It was no use though as their words wafted through the walls and into his room.

As he closed his eyes tightly, he thought of something else, something more pleasant.

Atobe Keigo.

A small smile touched his lips. It had been about a week since their last meeting, and it was now only three days before his birthday. He knew what his wish would be this year.

To see him again.

Every other year it had been the same, but this year he decided to make a new one, seeing as all his past wishes never made a difference, never came true, maybe it would this time.

He gave a short laugh. He was being stupid, as usual. Why would Atobe-sama _want _to see him again, was a question he should be asking himself. There really wasn't a reason at all if he was being honest. Atobe-sama was, well, an Atobe, and he was Jiroh.

There was nothing interesting about Jiroh.

So he thought anyway, he was sure Gakuto would disagree with him on that.

The blonde frowned. Lately, everything between them felt so weird, so forced… so awkward. He didn't know why that was, and it made him a little sad. He knew that realistically, friends always grew apart and he prayed that it wasn't happening to them. In the back of his mind he knew that it was something else altogether, but he didn't want to think about it long enough to find out what it was exactly.

There was a knock on his door.

Slowly, he lowered his blanket from his head. "Come in," he called out.

Opening the door, his mother quietly walked in and gave a small smile. "Are you feeling okay, Jiroh?"

He gave a few short nods and sat up, hugging his legs to his chest. "I feel fine, kaa-san." The blonde smiled slightly, easing his mother's worry a little as she sat down on the edge of his bed.

"That's good," she reached up and tucked a curl away from his eyes. "Are you hungry? What do you want for dinner?"

"I'm not hungry," he murmured, looking out the window to his left.

She peered at him in slight worry. "You've not been eating much lately, Jiroh. Is everything okay?"

The blonde forced a smile onto his face and turned to his mother. "Everything's fine kaa-san. You don't need to worry about me. The exams at school have just been hard, that's all, and I eat at school, you don't need to worry about me." He repeated quietly, partially lying.

Exams were always tough, so that wasn't so much of a lie, and he had been eating at school… it was just the amount that he had been eating that was lacking.

During lunch, Jiroh would only take a few bites before pushing his food away and shaking his head.

"I don't want any more," he would say to Gakuto who would sigh and push the food back towards him.

"Eat, now, you need to." The redhead commanded, staring pointedly at his slightly shaking hand.

"I'm not hungry," he lied. "I had a big breakfast." He watched as Gakuto shook his head and left the table, only to come back holding something out to him. Jiroh took it and smiled. "Thanks,"

Gakuto rolled his eyes. "You really should be eating actual food, but I guess Pocky is better than nothing at all." He was silent for a second as he watched his friend chew on the snack food. "Jiroh, please eat something later, I won't be there to make sure that you do. When was the last time you actually had a full meal?"

He thought for a second, head resting in his hand. "At Atobe-sama's house," he answered quietly, twirling the strawberry flavored covered pretzel in his hand as he averted his eyes to stare across the room.

"Of course," Gakuto nearly scoffed. Atobe Keigo's place, he should've guessed. "Promise me you'll eat something later." He said suddenly.

Jiroh mumbled something and Gakuto slapped his arm. "Promise, now."

"I promise! I'll eat a great big dinner, so big my chopsticks will snap underneath the weight of it." He grinned.

Gakuto had to smile back. "Don't overdo it though! Don't want my friend turning fat."

Jiroh laughed.

A small smile worked its way onto his face as he thought of it. The look on Gakuto's face when he promised him made it worth lying to him. But only slightly worth it.

"I'm your mother; it's my job to worry about you." Jiroh looked up; having forgotten his mother was there.

"I guess," he sighed and glanced out of the window. "May I go out, please?" Jiroh asked almost silently.

Frowning, his mother thought for a second. "I don't know…" she stated, unsurely

"I'll be fine kaa-san," he assured. "I won't let myself fall asleep anywhere, and I'll be home before it gets too late."

Reluctantly, she nodded. "I suppose you can, just don't stay out too late."

Jiroh gave his mother a tight hug. "Thanks, kaa-san," he then proceeded to jump off of his bed and grabbed his jacket before running downstairs and slipping on his shoes.

He didn't know where he was going to go; he just knew that he needed to get out of there.

-

Glancing at the caller ID, Atobe sighed and flicked his phone open, bringing it to his ear as he made his way from his office.

"Mushi mushi, okaa-san," he greeted tiredly, fighting off a yawn.

"Keigo, I just wanted to make sure that you were still coming over tomorrow." Her soft voice nearly sang through the phone.

"Of course ore-sama is, mother, ore-sama said so. Is that the only reason you called?"

"I, well… no, it's not." She said quietly. "You're father wants to talk to you, I couldn't help it, he guessed."

Atobe stopped walking and closed his eyes tightly. "Okay, ore-sama will talk to him." He heard the sound of the phone being passed over. "Hello otou-san,"

"Keigo," the man nearly growled. "What is this that I hear from your mother about not wanting to find a suitable wife and marry?"

He sighed tiredly and let himself lean against the wall slightly. "I said nothing of the sort, what I meant was not _yet_. I'm not ready to marry father, or have kids." His nose scrunched up. All kids did was make a lot of noise, and make a lot of mess.

His father—Hiroto—thought for a second. "We made a deal Keigo." He reminded almost silently.

"I know father. Ore-sama—"

"_Don't _you start with that again or I might take back what I'm about to say." His voice was annoyed. "You are much too arrogant with no reason to be. You're very talented, you could be great, but first you must show some humbleness."

He rolled his eyes and began walking again. "Yes, father, what is it you were going to say?"

"I was going to say, I will pick the girl, as if I left it to you to do that Keigo, who knows when you would be married, and once you turn twenty-two you will meet her."

Atobe came to a halt as the entrance to the building slammed shut behind him.

His father went on. "You will meet her, and you will get to know her. You _will _be married by the time you are twenty-three, but, here's the catch, I will let you find a girl to marry, but you must do that before your birthday in October, you must tell me, because during that time, I will also be looking for girl for you to marry. We push off your marriage by a year, and you get a chance to find a girl that you can actually at least be somewhat happy with. You are my son, I do want you happy, but we made deal, and you will keep that deal. Sound fair?"

There was silence on both ends as Atobe thought about the offer. It was better than having to be married by October, that was for sure. But he still didn't want to marry, but—really—what choice did he have?

He nodded, but realizing his father couldn't see him said, "Yes, father, sounds fair."

"Good," _click. _

Staring at the phone in his hand, he stated, "Humble my ass," and dropped the phone back into his pocket. Atobe turned only to walk into someone for the _second _time in a week. "For the love of Kami," he muttered angrily only to come to a pause as he looked at a blushing blonde.

"Gomen again, Atobe-sama, I wasn't watching where I was going…again." The blonde hesitantly looked up.

Atobe gave a short laugh. "Its fine, Akutagawa-kun, but we must stop meeting like this, it's terribly clichéd."

Jiroh smiled, blowing the conversation that Atobe had just had with his father out of his mind. Why was that smile so… he didn't even want to think about it.

"But isn't cliché usually sometimes rather popular? If so, why must we stop? It's the making of a great story." He grinned.

The silver haired man laughed. "Touché, Akutagawa-kun, not many people would dare try to answer back like that. But what they don't realize is that ore-sama _likes _it when they do, so that ore-sama can answer back. Clichés, as popular as they sometimes may be, grow old and tiring."

Jiroh opened his mouth to say something else then stopped, closing his mouth and shrugging. "You got me there."

Atobe looked him up and down, noting how the teenager turned a light pink and shifted awkwardly on his feet. "Why are you out here at this time of night, Akutagawa-kun?"

He sighed lightly. "I needed to get away from my house for a little bit. It gets… stuffy in there." The corner of his mouth twitched downwards at the thought of just how "stuffy" it got.

Thinking that the teen wasn't telling him the full truth, Atobe merely glanced off down the street, not wanting to push him, especially seeing as he barely knew the young boy, which surprised him slightly. Most of the time he had no qualms about finding out what he wanted to know, no matter who it was that he wanted to know it from.

His stomach gave an almost silent growl, announcing that he needed to eat.

Atobe looked at the teen who was quietly biting his lip, eyeing the ground as if he didn't actually see it. "What do you say to coming to dinner with ore-sama?"

Jiroh jumped at the sound of his voice, having nearly forgotten where he was and who he was with. "Huh?" his voice squeaked.

Smile almost nonexistent, Atobe repeated, "Ore-sama would like you to come to dinner."

"With you?" Surely Atobe-sama couldn't mean to accompany him… could he?

He nodded. "Unless ore-sama's Japanese has been wrong all these years, ore-sama is sure that is what ore-sama said. So, will you?" Atobe didn't know why the answer he sought was "yes".

Brushing a strand of honey colored hair away from his face, Jiroh nodded shyly. "Sure, I've not eaten all that much today, and I'd like another chance to talk to you." He bit his lip, looking down to his shoes, and frowned. "Though," he continued, glancing up at Atobe from underneath his hair. "I don't think I'm dressed right to go anywhere."

* * *

Resting his head on his hand, Gakuto tuned out the sounds of his family's chatting. He wondered what Jiroh was doing at the moment and thought that maybe he should give him a call and make sure he made good on the promise the narcoleptic made him.

He glanced down at his pocket and fisted his hand. Would that be considered rude? But when it came to Jiroh, he didn't care if he was being rude or not.

Gakuto decided that a text message would work.

Taking out his phone discretely, he flipped his phone open and sent: _R u eating?_

A second later he received: _I will be. _

_Where r u now?_

_…_

_Jiroh?_

_With Atobe. _

That gave him a pause. Clenching his jaw he sent back a mere, _oh…_ and closed his phone, slipping it back into his pocket.

"Calling your _girlfriend_?" his brother Kenta smirked, chewing on his food.

Gakuto looked down, not having realized that they already had their food and grabbed his chopsticks. "Jiroh, and I don't have a girlfriend." He grumbled, not saying what he was thinking; _I don't want one, I want Jiroh._

His mother—Mayu—smiled. "How is he? Jiroh-kun is such a sweet boy."

A small smile made its way onto his face. "He's doing okay, better then he used to." It was only a small lie, but then again, Jiroh really was doing better than a few years ago when _it _happened.

Miki got a sly look on her face and poked her younger brother. "You're always with him, if I didn't know any better I would say you liked him more than a friend, Gakuto."

The dancer blushed.

Their father looked at her sternly. "Miki," Kuota chastised.

Kenta's face scrunched up slightly. "Onee-san, don't say things like that, I don't want to think about nii-san with Jiroh—or any other guy." He shivered. "That's gross."

Frowning slightly at his brother's comment, Gakuto said nothing.

-

"Atobe-sama, really, I can't wear this." Jiroh stated bashfully, turning a dark red as Atobe looked him over.

"You can, and you will, you may also keep it." He brushed invisible lint from Jiroh's shoulder. "Ore-sama doesn't wear this anymore; too small. Besides," he smiled. "You look better than ore-sama ever did in it, and that's saying something."

"I highly doubt _that's _true, Atobe-sama." Jiroh said in disbelief, but also very flattered even if it wasn't true. To be complimented like that from _Atobe-sama_, he knew not many people got to say that they were probably.

Busying himself with fixing his tie, Atobe said, "Whether you believe it or not, Akutagawa-kun, it's true." He looked behind himself in the mirror and sighed at the young boy who nervously tried to tie his own tie.

Walking over to the sixteen year old, he took the tie from him and placed it around Jiroh's neck who—for a second—seemed as if he had stop breathing.

Brown eyes flickered across the slightly tanned skin, coming to halt for a second on the dark mole just under his right eye before continuing on, wanting to get as much detail about Atobe Keigo as he could in the little time allotted to him.

Forcing himself to breath, Jiroh felt a small stirring in his stomach, a smile stretching across his lips. Atobe-sama, the only word for him was "beautiful".

"Huh?"

Jiroh shook his head. "What?" did he say that out loud?

His face darkened.

"You said something," Atobe clarified. "What was it?"

The teen almost sighed in relief, at least Atobe-sama hadn't heard him. He shook his head. "It was honestly nothing, I don't even know, probably just a random word that popped into my head! I do that sometimes."

Atobe smiled and took a step back. "That's cute."

Jiroh squeaked and brought up a hand to cover his mouth, before slowly bringing his hand down to fold it with his other one. "Cute?" that stirring was growing larger. It made him feel weird.

He nodded and laughed. "Cute, ore-sama usually does not use that word though, but the only other word ore-sama could think of would be 'adorable' but ore-sama thought that might be a little bit more inappropriate than 'cute' would be."

Jiroh bit his lip shyly and brought his hands behind his back as if he were a little kid. "I like adorable things." He smiled.

Atobe stared at him for a second, eyes searching him again, then he finally cleared his throat and took another step back.

Holding out his arm towards the door, he asked. "Shall we go?"

The blonde gave a small nod, "Sure," and followed Atobe out of the door.

When they got to Atobe's car, the driver opened the door and Jiroh slid in, Atobe coming in to sit opposite of him, crossing his legs at the knees and leaning back into the expensive leather seats.

"You really didn't have to do this Atobe-sama. I could have just gone home and gotten something." Jiroh stated, suddenly feeling more nervous than he had been. Why did this feel like a date when it wasn't?

"But you were already with ore-sama, and ore-sama was going out anyways and wants to talk to you some more. So why not go with ore-sama, ahn?" he asked with a smile.

Jiroh shrugged. "I guess, it's just, I told my mother I wouldn't be out too late, and it is a school night—"

"And ore-sama shall get you home before too late." Atobe interrupted. "So there is no need to worry. Besides, it'll be some of the best food you've ever eaten." He grinned, teeth shining.

He felt a pleasant chill go down his spine.

"You will enjoy it, don't worry."

Jiroh's lips widened into another smile. "I won't."

-

Jiroh tried to ignore the gazes and looks that were being sent his way, the whispers, and he wondered whether or not Atobe was able to hear the things they said, and if it bothered him at all.

Because, it kind of made him self-conscious.

"Ignore them," Atobe whispered out of the corner of his mouth as they followed the waiter to a table. "Ignore them and they will go back to their meaningless lives."

Jiroh frowned at the last part but decided to say nothing in case he said something that would make Atobe-sama not want to talk to him again, and that was the last thing Jiroh wanted.

"What kind of restaurant is this, Atobe-sama?" He asked curiously after they were seated and as he looked around at the intricate designs of marble.

"Italian, actually, hope you don't mind."

Jiroh looked at him and beamed. "I don't mind, I've always wanted to go to Italy, right now I guess this is as close as I can get."

Atobe nodded, seemingly not having paid the comment any mind at all. He whispered something to the waiter and Jiroh watched as the man gave him a look before nodding with an almost unheard sigh and going to do what Atobe-sama had said.

"What was that about?" he tilted his head.

There was a small smirk on his age. "Just ore-sama convincing the waiter that you are—indeed—of age."

Jiroh looked at him suspiciously. "But I'm not,"

Atobe leaned forward. "But only you and ore-sama knows that." He gave a charming smile and sat back into his chair.

Giggling, Jiroh turned pink and smiled. "That's true," he bit his lip, wondering whether or not he wanted to say it. "What… what was the real reason you asked me to dinner?"

The silver haired man looked at him, smile turning downwards but not exactly a frown. He looked as if he was wondering why himself. "Ore-sama… wanted to get to know you better."

Jiroh was shocked. He wanted to know _him_—Jiroh—better? But why? "Me?" his voice squeaked slightly.

Atobe nodded. "Yes, ore-sama doesn't know the reason himself though. Ore-sama just… does."

Just does. That was such an odd answer, but—for some reason—Jiroh rather liked it.

They continued to speak, laughing at things the other said, enjoying themselves in the other's company. Atobe found himself loving the way the sixteen year old would beam at any little thing, any compliment, any humorous remark. He liked it so much, that he found himself sweating a little and was shocked by it. What was this little… _boy _doing to him?

After Atobe had paid for the dinner, and they were back in the car heading on their way towards Jiroh's house, Jiroh said, "Uh, Atobe-sama,"

"Yes?" the heir asked curiously.

"I was wondering, would you be willing to… see me again sometime? Soon?" he bit his lip and looked down at his hands folded in his lap, already regretting the question.

There was a sigh from the man across from him and Jiroh heard shuffling but only looked up when he felt the seat dip slightly next to him. Atobe recrossed his legs and rested his arm on the leather seat Jiroh was seated on.

"There is no need for a question like that, Akutagawa-kun." And then more quietly, he answered, "Of course, ore-sama would _love_… to see you again." He had a small smile on his face and Atobe thought to himself that this had to be the most he had ever smiled in one day, let alone night.

Jiroh's face painted a light pink as he stared up at the smile. _His lips look soft_, he thought. He leaned forward unnoticeably and was really disappointed when the car door was opened.

They jumped away from each other quickly, breathing heavily.

Casting a glance at his house to see that the lights were out, Jiroh stated, "So, I guess this is goodbye, Atobe-sama?"

Making sure that his driver was not peering in at them, Atobe leaned forward so that his face was two inches from Jiroh's rapidly darkening one. "Not goodbye, but goodnight, Akutagawa-kun." He let his lips graze almost not touching against Jiroh's cheek causing said boy to stop breathing and close his eyes, taking pleasure in the fact that Atobe's lips were even softer than they looked.

He opened them when Atobe pulled back, brushing his hair away from his face. "Then, goodnight, Atobe-sama." And he stepped out of the car.

"Goodnight Akutagawa-kun," he stated again, giving him a small smile.

"Call me Jiroh! Please," he asked hopefully.

Atobe's smile widened. "Goodnight, _Jiroh._"

The door closed and the driver gave him a small smile and nod before walking to the driver's seat. Jiroh watched the car pull away, completely breathless.

-

**_TBC_**


	5. Chapter 5

_I'll say this right now, the only reason I even updated today was cause my muse for this came back and I wrote just under half of this last night and this morning. After this chapter—I'll be honest—it probably won't be updated for a bit because I'm going to go back to my other story I'm writing for a different account which will have a spinoff and a sequel and it's easier to write then this for me, surprisingly enough (I've written half of the story in a week about)._

_You can thank __**ice flow **__for this update. And NO, at the end of this chapter, they do NOT end up having sex. I'll say that right now._

_I hope you guys enjoy this nice long chapter. Please read and review, nya!_

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything.**

**-**

**Chapter Five**

* * *

-

Blinking his eyes open, Jiroh looked around the large clearing of what seemed to be a forest. He stood slowly and carefully, stumbling on a loose root and looked around.

He recognized this place, but he couldn't put his finger on where or what it was. It was too familiar to be just a dream, but was just all too odd to be real at all.

As he turned his head to his immediate left, Jiroh walked as if in a trance towards a rather old and willowy tree. His hand came up to drag down it, the bark crackling underneath his gentle fingers. A soft whimper came from above him.

Jiroh stared up through the dark leaves to see a small boy about seven or so hugging his legs to his chest, sniffling back tears. Why did this scene seem so familiar?

"Jiroh!"

Both the blonde's and the young boy's head snapped to the side to see another boy at about eleven or twelve years old coming towards them.

Biting his lip, Jiroh stepped back and glanced back up into the tree.

"Jiroh," the boy begged slightly. "Please come down from there! I don't want you to get hurt!"

Glaring down at the older kid, "Jiroh" replied, "Why should I? You said you didn't want me around, I'm just following what you asked of me."

Sighing, the boy placed his hands on his hips and frowned up at him. "You know I didn't mean that, I never mean it. I was just angry. Hyoutei is tougher than I expected for a school that lets you in based on who your family is or how much money you have."

They were both silent for a second as the real Jiroh watched them, hugging his arms to his chest.

Young Jiroh pouted and shifted where he sat up in the tree, causing the older boy to give a nearly silent, nervous sound. "How am I supposed to know you didn't really mean what you said, Ichirou?"

Jiroh frowned at the sound of that name.

"You're always saying mean things like that to me. It's getting to the point where I'm starting to believe them." He continued quietly, as if to himself.

Pursing his lips, Ichirou grabbed onto a low branch and swung himself upwards, climbing until he reached the young Jiroh and seated himself on the large branch in front of him so that he had one leg on each side.

"Well, don't believe me." Ichirou stated demandingly. "I'm just a stupid ass big brother; I don't know what I'm saying."

Young Jiroh giggled.

"And please don't tell kaa-san and tou-san that I said that. I'm only twelve, too young to die." The little blonde nodded and then slowly frowned.

"So," he started. "You didn't mean anything that you said to me? You didn't mean it when you said that you were too old to play with an eight year old like me or when you said that being twelve gave you responsibilities and you didn't have time to waste time on me or that you hated me and Yuki and wished we were never born so that you could be an only child again?" the young boy said this as if were an adult and understood everything he had just said.

But Jiroh had understood everything he just said.

Ichirou was quiet as he let his eyes wander across his little brother's face, pondering on the question.

After a minute, he gave an almost forced smile (but young Jiroh told himself it wasn't) and said, "Of course I didn't Jiroh, I could never mean that."

The little boy grinned and hugged his brother around his neck tightly, Ichirou hugging him just as tightly back. "I'm glad nii-san! I would hate it if you really felt that way. I'd be all sad, I hate being sad."

Ichirou felt himself smile against his will. "Yes, being sad doesn't suite you all that well." He pulled back and ruffled his brother's slightly curly, reddish-gold blonde hair. "I like my otouto being happy and hyper, thank you very much."

"I like myself like that too," young Jiroh stated, eyes drooping slightly. "But I also like to sleep. Sleep sounds good…" he yawned and let his head fall forward onto his brother's shoulder who braced himself to keep them from falling out of the tree.

"Whoa, don't you _dare _fall asleep until we at least get back down to the ground, Jiroh!" he commanded, worry for his little brother overcoming most of his other emotions.

Young Jiroh nodded and yawned again, grapping onto a branch slightly behind him and stepping down onto the clearing floor, swaying where he stood while Ichirou climbed down behind him.

Grabbing young Jiroh around the waist, Ichirou walked them back towards the front of the woods, rolling his eyes. "You sleep too much, Jiroh. That can't be good for you."

As Jiroh watched them leave the forest, he frowned in sadness. Dreams, why did they always seem like nightmares?

-

Opening his eyes, Jiroh glanced around his room as he lay on the bed quietly. The sound of crickets from outside filling his hearing senses and he snuggled back into his warm blankets, not being able to close his eyes.

He sighed softly and slowly turned onto his other side to look at the picture of himself hugging an older, darker haired boy around the waist, an even smaller, light-haired girl beaming next to them.

A small smile stretched across his lips before it slowly fell and he remembered that this picture was one of the very few he had, and that it was the only reason he could remember what they had looked like.

Swallowing back tears, Jiroh spun once more onto his other side so that he now faced the window. He didn't want to look at them. Seeing them and remembering them was only torture because then—soon enough—he would remember that they were no longer there.

* * *

"Happy Birthday!" Gakuto grinned at his friend, holding out a plate that had a small cake large enough to feed two people.

"I _told _you not to get me anything, Gakuto." he stated, but even as he did, he continued to stare at the delectable looking cake made of smooth light pink frosting, chocolate sauce waved across it, strawberries dipped in whipped cream on top of that, and in darker pink glaze, "Happy Birthday Jiroh" was written in elegant script, and he recognized the careful work as Marui's.

His lips twitched up into a smile as Gakuto placed it softly on the table and sat down next to his friend.

"That's why I got you a cake big enough for the two of us." He smirked, taking some of the frosting and licking it from his finger. "Yum, strawberries, your favorite."

"Do you have a fork by any chance?" Jiroh asked, forcing himself to look away from the cake and at Gakuto.

Gakuto nodded and handed him a plastic fork, only to slap his hand away when Jiroh went to start eating it.

"Ow," he pouted and rubbed his hand. "What was that for?"

"You have to make a wish first!" he grinned and stuck a blue candle in the middle of the cake. He glanced around before pulling out a liter from his pocket.

"Where'd you _get _that?" Jiroh questioned suspiciously.

Gakuto glanced up at him as he lit the candle. "What?"

"_That_," he pointed to the red object.

"Oh," the redhead stated as if just realizing what Jiroh was talking about. "I, uh… I confiscated it from Kenta." He averted his eyes up to the trees above them.

Jiroh's brow narrowed. "Kenta? But isn't he like, fourteen?"

Gakuto nodded. "Which is why I confiscated it!" he beamed. "Aren't I a fabulous older brother?"

Jiroh merely nodded, losing the smile that had grown on his face, hoping that Gakuto didn't notice. The blonde was happy when his friend seemed not to and instead said, "Make a wish."

Pausing in his thoughts, Jiroh looked down at the cake, biting his lower lip so that it turned a dark red. He didn't have anything to wish for. Every year it was the same thing and—again—every year that wish would be lost in the billions of other wishes made but so many other people. Jiroh's never came true.

And he didn't expect this one to either.

But he wondered, maybe changing his wish from: _I wish my parents would stop fighting_, to something would change the fact that it may or may not come true. He was tired of wishing for the same thing.

He wanted something different.

Closing his eyes, he blew out the tiny, quivering flame, blue wax slowly melting to mix with the pink of the frosting.

_I wish to be happy…_

He kept his eyes closed, wanting the short, peaceful moment to last longer.

"Are you going to open your eyes any time soon, or are you going to fall asleep, Jiroh?" Gakuto asked playfully, pocking his friend in the shoulder.

Shaking his head and sitting up, Jiroh opened his eyes and smiled. "Of course I won't fall asleep; if I did my face would land in this pretty cake that Marui-san made!"

As if in surprise, Gakuto's lips fell into a small frown as he looked questioningly at his friend. "How did you know that Marui made this?"

Jiroh tilted his head. "Hm? I can recognize his cakes. I eat them so much."

"Really? Interesting," he cleared his throat and—Jiroh could tell—forced a smile back onto his lips.

Biting his own lip, Jiroh wondered what he had said wrong before brushing it aside. Gakuto always acted weird when he mentioned Marui or even Atobe as of late. Jiroh put it up to the fact that they didn't and couldn't spend as much time together as they used to, or as much time as they would like.

"Let's eat," Gakuto took one of the plastic forks in his hand, grinning across the table to his friend.

Nodding, Jiroh watched as Gakuto took a small bite of the cake, slowly chewing on it as they fell into an awkward silence.

Biting his lip, Jiroh asked, "Did you want to do something later? Today is the last day of the carnival. We can go to that, have fun, play games, ride rides...You want to?"

Gakuto blinked at him, smiled, and nodded. "Yeah, sounds fun."

-

Atobe fought the urge to bring his hand up to his temples and rub, the coming headache worsening by the second.

The dark haired woman in front of him just wouldn't stop _talking_. And he was sure that she would only be the first of many like her.

Every time Atobe almost forgot exactly _why _he was putting up with going on a date with this _bimbo _of a girl, the deal forced its way back into his mind, reluctantly reminding him that if he didn't find the right woman by his twenty-second birthday, he would have to marry whoever it was his father picked out for him.

And he really didn't want that.

"Atobe-sama?" the girl asked, batting her eyes lightly, finally noticing the lack of attention being dawned upon her.

The silver haired man gave a forced smile, mind already starting to wander elsewhere, more specifically to a certain golden haired teenager.

"Gomen, Karou-chan," he had to give a slight pause in order to remember her name. "Ore-sama has been rather busy as of late. You understand." He took a sip of his drink and let his eyes wander to the exit.

She nodded. "Of course, I know who you are and what you do is very important. I understood what I signed up for." Karou crossed her legs and rested her head on her dainty hand, leaning forward, giving a small, suggestive smirk.

Atobe gave a short nod and forced a smile. "And what is it exactly that you have signed for?" He crossed his arms and leaned back into his chair.

Tossing her dark hair over her shoulder, Karou gave a large smile that Atobe had to admit probably would have dazed anyone who was not "the great ore-sama". And just for that fact, he was thankful that he was.

"Oh, you know," she sang loftily. "I've heard the many rumors of women being invited into the bed of Atobe Keigo-sama. The sheets silky, lights dim, completely romantic." She waved her hand airily. "Sounds completely romantic if you are for that type of thing. I am, but—unlike most girls—I'm also up for a little… ah, adventure, shall we say?" she questioned, resting her head on the back of her hand as she brought her glass up to sip at her expensive drink.

He gave a small nod. "Is that so?" Atobe mentally crossed her off of the list; too forward and had no self-respect.

"Tell me about yourself, Atobe-sama," Karou lightly requested.

His eyebrow twitched, that sounded almost too much like a demand and an Atobe took demands from _no one_. "There isn't much to say about ore-sama," he replied instead, hoping to steer the conversation in a new direction.

Karou laughed. "Not much to say? Well, I'm sure that isn't true. You're Atobe Keigo, by far probably one of the most interesting people to talk to. What are your interests? Your hobbies?"

Sighing, Atobe stated, "Tennis,"

She raised a thin eyebrow. "Tennis? I'm not that fond of the sport myself, is it really that good?" she leaned forward, as if eager for his answer.

Giving a stiff nod, Atobe answered, "It is. Only sport ore-sama has ever really cared for, only sport ore-sama ever _will _care for. You have to have both knowledge and power, or else you can't win. Ore-sama has both."

"Hmm," she smiled. "You sound as if you are bragging."

Atobe merely stared at her in a bored fashion. "Ore-sama does not brag, ore-sama states only the truth." He had to fight from showing the annoyance he felt at that moment.

"Eh? Okay, whatever you say, Atobe-sama." She breathed his name, flirting blatantly and Atobe looked over her shoulder at the door, just wishing to be able to walk out right then. But he had better manners than that.

As their early dinner went on, Atobe answered questions swiftly and as vague as possible while Karou answered the questions not asked thoroughly and in full stories. Atobe didn't really care about hearing her life story, but tried to listen despite the boredom he felt.

After awhile, he couldn't help as he turned her out—only nodding here and there at random intervals—and his thoughts flew to a different person altogether, and he couldn't understand why.

Akutagawa Jirou. He was an… interesting boy. Oshitari said he had feelings for him, but Atobe knew better. He didn't have feelings for a teenager, and a teenage _boy _at that. He was merely curious. Atobe had found him about to get raped; therefore, he had the right to be curious.

But that didn't explain why he had told the blonde that they could see each other again, now did it?

And again, Oshitari told him he had said they could because he _wanted _to, but Atobe wasn't about to take _Oshitari Yuushi's_—of all people—advice. That man may have been a romantic, and may be sought after (like him) almost constantly, but he didn't know the difference between a having feelings for someone and a casual "romp" between the sheets.

There was no way he was about to take a "play boy's" word for it.

Especially when he was perfectly able to work… whatever it was that he was feeling, out himself.

When they were finished with their "date", Atobe had his driver quickly take her home, saying as little as was possible and only giving a forced smile and nod as she left his limo and walked back to her house.

As they started back on the road, a sudden urge rose in him and he told his driver to take a left.

* * *

"Nani? Say that again."

The person on the other end of the phone sighed and there was a thump and Jiroh guessed his friend had let himself fall back onto his bed.

"I'm grounded--those plans I made with you earlier--I've got to break them." Gakuto stated, voice small and forced, sounding about ready to cry. Jiroh knew he wouldn't though; what would Gakuto have to cry about?

Jiroh frowned and looked out his window to his left, saying, "Oh, that's fine, I guess, we'll just have to do something when you aren't grounded."

"I'm really sorry, Jiroh!" Gakuto exclaimed loudly.

"Gakuto, really it's fine. I don't mind! It's a birthday, it's not like I won't have more." Jiroh told him sternly, wanting Gakuto to stop blaming himself. Gakuto had nothing to be sorry about.

The redhead sighed. "Okay, I should get off. Kaa-san only allowed me on the phone to tell you that I had to cancel our plans, and she said to tell you she was sorry for doing this, but that she had to as a mother." Jiroh could nearly see Gakuto rolling his eyes at that.

Jiroh grinned. "It's fine, get off Gakuto. I don't want you getting into even more trouble because of me."

"It'd be worth it…" Jiroh heard him whisper and narrowed his eyes in confusion but said nothing, thinking that he probably wasn't supposed to hear that. "Bye Jiroh,"

"Bye,"

The phone went dead and Jiroh stared at it in his hand, giving small, light sighs. He didn't want to question it. He didn't want to think about it. But for some reason Gakuto had been acting so strange as of late… Jiroh didn't want to know why.

Just as he sat the phone down and went to lay back on his bed, it rang again and he stared at it curiously, wondering whether it had the power to tell when he didn't feel like talking and would rather go to sleep. Wishing he could just ignore it instead, he picked it up and stared at the number, blinking when he didn't recognize it. Shrugging, he answered it anyways, curious as to who it could be.

"Moshi, moshi," he stated, voice tired while he lay back on his bed and let his eyes fall shut.

"Jiroh-kun," Jiroh shot up in bed, eyes widening in disbelief as he brought the phone away from his ear to hold it out in front of his face, blinking. He shook his head—couldn't be who it sounded like—and brought it back to his ear.

"Moshi, moshi," he stated cheerfully, eager to know who it was.

"Jiroh-kun," the voice repeated but Jiroh continued smiling, despite knowing that it couldn't _possibly _be—"It's Ore-sama,"

Jiroh dropped the phone and the voice paused as Jiroh yelled and dived to the ground for it, standing as he raised it back to his ear nervously. "Gomen, ne, Atobe-sama, I wasn't expecting it to be you!"

There was a chuckle. "That's fine, Jiroh-kun, ore-sama may surprise many people in different ways. It's not against the law to be surprised, is it? Unless ore-sama is—somehow—mistaken?"

Jiroh blushed and scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, thanking Kami-sama that he couldn't be seen.

"Ehh, last time I checked it wasn't." he frowned. "How'd you get my number?" he waited for the answer and sat back down on his bed.

"Ore-sama has many ways to do the things I wish to do. How isn't important, Jiroh-kun, ore-sama wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away," he stated quietly with a small smile.

There was silence for a moment. "Ore-sama was wondering if you were busy tonight?"

Jiroh's heart stopped. "Busy? No, actually my plans just got cancelled."

"Well then, ore-sama wouldn't be as rude as to say I'm glad, but… would you like to… keep ore-sama company for a few hours?"

"I—" he took in a large breath, mouth a little agape. "I'd love to, actually, I've been wanting to see you again, Atobe-sama."

"Atobe would be efficient."

Jiroh blinked in confusion for a second before it dawned on him and he nodded, and then remembered he couldn't be seen and said, "Hai, Atobe-sa… I mean Atobe."

"So, shall ore-sama pick you up then? Ore-sama's driver knows where he is, we shall meet you in front of your house."

"Um…" Jiroh glanced at his bedroom door. "Do you think you could pick me up about a block away or so? I don't want my parents…" He fell silent.

"Of course," Jiroh heard a smile in his voice and couldn't help one of his own. "Ore-sama shall pick you up a block away, north. We should be there in twenty minutes… ore-sama looks forward to seeing you, Jiroh-kun."

The ring tone sounded and Jiroh closed his phone, dropping back down onto his bed, nearly grinning. Atobe wanted to see him again! Why would Atobe want to see him—a teenager—again though?

Jiroh almost felt like thanking Gakuto's kaa-san for grounding him. He knew that sounded horrible, but at the moment he couldn't care all that much. Because he didn't now have plans, he was free to go with Atobe Keigo! Why Atobe wanted to spend time with him out of everyone else in Japan, he didn't really care, he was just thankful that Atobe _did _want to spend time with him.

Standing from his bed, Jiroh placed his phone into one of his pockets and ran to the bathroom to brush his soft curls, trying to get them a little more under control then the mess they were in from sleeping and lying on his bed.

When he was satisfied enough, he went back to his room and searched through his closet, biting at his lip as he looked for something to wear.

Once he had donned suitable clothing, Jiroh sighed and looked around his room, trying to remember if he had to do anything else. Thinking he didn't he opened the door to his room and quietly crept into the hall way, trying not to bring any attention to himself.

He slipped on his shoes and let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him, hurrying away from his house and down the street in the correct direction, another smile overcoming his face.

The thought of seeing Atobe again… it was making him giggly, and happy, and overall ecstatic. He wasn't supposed to feel like that though! Why would he be feeling like that? Atobe was great and sugoi and everything, but he was Atobe Keigo, he was the heir to the Atobe Business, he was... the man who saved him and was now taking the time out of his busy schedule to get to know a teenager who did nothing besides sleep and feel sorry for himself.

Jiroh came to a stop and bent his head, looking to the walk underneath his feet, head tilted to the left, and a small frown on his face. That really _was _all he did, wasn't it? Sleep and feel sorry for himself, that is. He really shouldn't be taking time from Atobe-sama!

But _Atobe_ was the one who had called _him _and _Atobe _was the one who said that he had wanted to spend time with _him_. Jiroh hadn't been the one to called, not that he hadn't wanted to. He _had _asked to see Atobe-sama again, after all.

And now—Atobe was letting him get that hope.

_I wish to be happy…_

That's what Jiroh had wished for and maybe getting to know Atobe was going to be the fulfillment of that wish. Maybe getting to know Atobe would make him happy in the end.

He smiled. Just thinking about it—_that _made him very happy…

"Are you just going to stand there, Jiroh-kun, or will you come with ore-sama?"

Jiroh froze and then slowly turned towards the voice to see Atobe sitting in his limo, the door open as if waiting for someone and when Jiroh realized it was waiting for _him _he couldn't control the large bubble of happiness that swelled inside of him as if it were an over-blown balloon.

"Atobe," he started in excitement.. "I thought that you were going to wait for me up there?"

Atobe smiled politely at him. "Ore-sama was, but then I saw that you were here and ore-sama ordered my driver to drive here and pick you up as it looked as if you weren't going to be moving any time soon. Lost in thought, ahn?"

Jiroh nodded, blushing as he slid into the limo, only to jump when the door seemingly closed on its own.

The silver haired man chuckled and leaned back into his seat across from the teenager. "Ore-sama figures that I should wish you a happy birthday, na?"

Jiroh stared at him. "How did you know that it's my birthday?"

Atobe merely smiled slyly. "The same way ore-sama knew your phone number. Does it matter?"

"I… guess not. Arigato for wishing me a happy birthday, Atobe." He stated, hands placed innocently in his lap as he swung his feet back and forth lightly in front of him.

"It's not every day one turns seventeen, ore-sama should know; I was there."

The blonde giggled. "Hai, I had plans today with my friend Gakuto, but he got grounded and had to cancel them just before you called. I was sad, but only because I couldn't spend more time with Gakuto, not because he had to cancel on my birthday. I was going to be alone! But I'm not anymore so, I'm happy now! Or… at least as happy as I can be…" the smile disappeared and he looked down at his folded hands.

Atobe stared at him, the cute stance the boy had been holding now replaced by one of sadness. He gave a silent sigh, not liking the look of it on someone who looked like they should be hyper and excited and happy.

"You can tell me all about it when we get back; ore-sama is willing to listen to what you have to say, Jiroh-kun."

Jiroh looked up and smiled.

-

"Ooh! Look at the moon from here! It's so pretty!" Jiroh stated as he leaned over the balcony, staring up into the sky that was slowly filling with stars. "And big, I've never seen it so big." Jiroh smiled as he glanced over his shoulder. "Don't you think so, Atobe?"

The heir gave a nod as he sat in one of the chairs near the sliding door to his room, content just to watch the teenager ramble on about how pretty the night was.

Once Jiroh had calmed down, the blonde sat in the seat next to his host, breathing a little bit heavier from his rapid talking. "You already know it's my birthday, but, I wonder—Atobe—whether or not you know what other day it is."

Atobe stared at him and then nodded. "Hai, ore-sama does. It's the day your older brother and younger sister died, correct?"

Jiroh smiled lightly at him. "Bingo," he stated in English, sighing. "Today is the day my siblings died, my birthday. I'm always the most depressed on this day and—I guess—that's the reason Gakuto was so sad he had to cancel on me. It's not his fault though. Besides, maybe it was meant to happen—for him to cancel I mean, because, now, I get to spend time with Atobe."

"Tell me about it," Atobe stated softly, placing a calming hand on Jiroh's shoulder.

"I wasn't with them," the blonde started after a minute of silence, feet quietly swinging. "I was at Gakuto's house for a few hours, you know—spending a bit of my birthday with my friend. We were outside in the yard, just talking, the moon… it was almost as pretty as the one tonight, but not quite."

He took in a large breath and continued. "I'm not quite sure what happened. I've never asked and my parents never offered. I don't think I actually want to know anyways. They never picked me up, I ended up staying the night at Gakuto's house. His parents were called late in the night but they let me sleep and when we woke up all they said was that there had been an accident. I didn't exactly understand what they were talking about, Gakuto did, and he held my hand the whole way to the hospital and through it. I can never thank him enough for that; it's one of the reasons I love him so much. Me and Gakuto have been through everything together. He supported me and supports me still.

"Kaa-san and tou-san blame each other," he continued. "Tou-san can hardly look at me anymore in fear that I'll too disappear before his eyes. Kaa-san tries to be a loving mother still, but it doesn't work, we both know it. Sometimes I can't eat, at least not real food, Marui-san's sweets and maybe some Pocky, but that's all. I don't feel comfortable eating when I know that Ichirou and Yuki never will again. I sleep because—when I dream, even if they are nightmares—I get to see them, again, and they're still alive, we're happy, kaa-san and tou-san don't fight, I'm still a good friend to Gakuto… I'm happy."

Jiroh looked up at him, tears sparkling in his eyes as he forced a smile on his face. "You know," he began. "That's what I wished for, to be happy that is. Gakuto made me wish and I always wish for the same thing; for my parents to stop fighting. I changed it this year because—every year—it's the same and my wish never comes true. So I think of this as an experiment. I never believed in the wishes coming true, but if this one comes true, I may just have to change my mind. I want to be happy, Atobe."

Atobe stared at the blonde, taking in the scene of those brown eyes watering and slowly took the now seventeen year old's hand, running his thumb over the top of his hand.

"I think it's possible, hard, but possible, Jiroh-kun." He leaned down, slowly capturing the teenager's lips, not moving for a moment before pulling back to see Jiroh staring up at him, eyes widened.

"Atobe," he breathed and then tilted his head up, lips automatically finding the older man's and applying pressure as he raised up onto his knees, hands clutching at the bottom of Atobe's shirt as the heirs arm wound itself around Jiroh's shoulders, pulling him even closer.

Running his tongue along Jiroh's smooth lips, Atobe enjoyed the taste and smell of strawberries. Jiroh opened his mouth obligingly, eyes once more fluttering shut and stomach giving a light twist. He gasped at the feeling of Atobe's tongue messaging at his own and his small hands began traveling up Atobe's strong chest, coming to rest around his neck.

Atobe pulled back from the kiss, only to latch his lips onto the crook of the boy's neck, sucking and nipping at the skin gently. Jiroh moaned, tilting his head so that the man had better access to him, breathing heavily.

"Stay the night," Atobe whispered breathily into Jiroh's ear.

He nodded shakily. "Hai,"

Jiroh smiled, happy for the moment.


	6. Chapter 6

_So, I wasn't going to upload this yet (and I just wrote it last night) but I decided I would. Maybe reviews will help motivate me to concentrate on chapter 7? –hint hint- Also... the next chapter is where it'll start to get limey (I think)... not lemony yet, but limey. -nods-_

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot and soap operaness.**

_PS… get ready for Gakuto torture… again… T_T_

_-_

**Chapter six**

* * *

**-**

Light breathing against his neck was what woke him up the next morning. At first he wondered if was just the air conditioning somehow blowing softly against his neck or if he had left a window open before he realized that there was a warm body placed comfortably against his chest.

When the small body sighed happily and snuggled closer into him, murmuring something under his breath, Atobe held him tightly, blinking himself awake. He flinched slightly against the bright daylight coming in through the curtains hiding the entrance to his balcony and almost uncounciously tugged the boy closer to him. After realizing who it was in his arms, Atobe stared down at the blonde, his fingers drawing small circles into Jirou's side.

His body seemed all too aware of the soft, warm huffs being blown onto his skin and Atobe sighed helplessly, staring up at the ceiling. It couldn't be helped, he figured. He was—after all—a grown man and there was—after all—an extremely attractive person laying against him. It didn't help that the boy had the personality to match his looks. In other words, he was adorable both inside and out.

Letting out a disbelieving laugh when Jirou's leg inched over his waist in the blonde's sleep, Atobe laid a hand on the thigh, gently removing it from around him and sat up, attempting to lay the boy down onto the bed.

The blonde pouted in his sleep and held firmly onto his short, keeping the man on the bed. Jirou smiled slightly, wrapping his arms around Atobe's lean waist, hugging it as if it were something to cuddle. Atobe glanced down at the teenager, eyebrow raised in slight amusement. He hadn't thought that the boy would be so… cuddly.

Atobe coughed lightly and pulled from Jirou's tight grip, quickly handing him a pillow. When Jirou just squeezed it, Atobe figured he was safe and brushed back a strand of hair before glancing down at his… overwhelming problem. He looked back down at the blonde asleep in his bed and in one of his shirts that was rather large on Jirou's small body. So large that it fell from his shoulder, leaving a large amount of skin exposed to him.

Hurriedly looking away, Atobe tried to regain his composure before sighing and walking over to his bathroom. He'd have to take a long, cold shower before the teenager woke up, and pray that he somehow would get less adorable while he was in the shower.

* * *

Jirou yawned widely and stretched his arms above his head, eyes slowly opening. His brows narrowed slightly as he glanced around the large room, wondering where he was. It hit him a second later and he blushed, nibbling at his lip as his stomach gave a nervously happy twitch. He had spent the night with Atobe Keigo. He had spent the night with Atobe Keigo on his birthday. What a wonderful birthday that had been…

He frowned at that thought, suddenly feeling guilty. Last night was the anniversary of his siblings' deaths and he had a good time? Jirou shouldn't be having a fun night on the day of May 5th. Any day but that day, despite it being his birthday.

But he couldn't help the smile that rose to his lips when he thought about it. It had been such a… wonderful night. His first kiss. Well, not technically as Gakuto had been his first kiss when they were little, but he didn't count Gakuto seeing as the dancer was his best friend and thinking of kissing his best friend was just weird!

Pulling the arm of the large shirt up his shoulder, he glanced down as the other side of the shirt fell off his other shoulder and stared at it curiously before giggling and shrugging. Jirou had always been small, he figured he should've been used to another man's shirt not fitting him. Although, the shirt was rather comfy and it was soft and it smelled good. It smelled like Atobe and it was soft like his hair as he had found out the night before.

Jirou blushed again, hugging his legs to his chest. He had gotten to run his fingers through that perfect, silver hair that was so amazingly… soft… and perfect… and silver… and amazing…

Something sparked in his head and Jirou sat up straight, glancing around the room. Where was Atobe-san? He almost hadn't noticed that he wasn't in the room by how much he was thinking about him. Kind of ironic really.

Listening closely, he heard the sound of water and figured that the older man must have been in the shower and decided to sit there and wait for him to come out. Not that he really minded though, the bed was rather comfy.

At the sound of birds chirping, Jirou glanced towards the balcony and slowly stood, walking towards it. Sliding open the curtains he placed a hand on the cool knob and turned it, opening the glass door and walking out, gasping slightly at the sight. It was just as beautiful as it had been the night before, except now it was during the day and instead the stars, he saw the sun and blue sky, birds flying off in the distance.

The warm sun beat down on him and he smiled, hugging his arms to his chest as he traveled over to the balcony railing. Leaning over it carefully, he glanced down at the ground below, the flowers in full bloom as bees gathered their nector. Jirou grinned, crossing his arms over the rail. He could get used to this place.

"Be careful, ahn? Ore-sama doesn't want to have to tell anyone if you suddenly die by falling off of a building."

A smile spread over his face at the sound of the voice and he glanced over his shoulder, sun shining off of his blonde hair. "Hai, Atobe-san!"

"It's Keigo." Atobe corrected, walking over to stand next to him.

Jirou blinked. "Huh?"

Smiling slightly, Atobe stared out over the trees in the distance. "Ore-sama wants you to call him Keigo. At least when we are alone. Ore-sama figures that after last night, you should be allowed to call ore-sama such." He glanced down at the blonde blinking next to him. "Unless you would prefer to call ore-sama as 'Atobe'?"

"Uh," Jirou blinked and shook his head, smiling again. "No, I'll call you Keigo. I like that name… Kei-chan."

Atobe choked. "Nani?"

The blonde beamed innocently and Atobe shook his boy had definitely _not _gotten less adorable while he was in the shower. In fact—dare he say it?—the boy had probably gotten even _more _adorable… if that was in anyway possible. When he glanced back down to see the boy's brown eyes shut and lips slightly parted as he hummed something and swayed slightly, he had to think _yes_. _Yes it was possible._

Jirou's eyes popped open suddenly and Atobe's breathing hitched at the sight of his wide eyes. "Ah!" he exclaimed. "Arigatou for spending time with me last night… Kei-chan!"

Atobe gave a slight smile. "No need to thank ore-sama, Jirou. It was not a favour. Ore-sama was the one to call _you _out, was ore-sama not?"

He bit his lip and glanced down to the side, hands clasping behind his back as he fought off another large smile. "Hai," he replied quietly, inching closer to the older man. "I guess it was." He looked back up at the twenty-one year old, hands moving to settle in Atobe's. "But still… arigatou," he whispered, standing on his toes as he leaned forward to press his lips softly to the silver haired man's, their fingers lacing together as they stepped closer until they were chest to chest.

Atobe felt the heart beat against his chest and a strange feeling errupted inside of him as he dragged his tongue across Jirou's lips, asking for his permission to explore his mouth. Jirou's lips parted with a small sigh and Atobe didn't waste any time in darting his tongue inside of the boy's mouth, wet muscle massaging at the cavern.

Tugging him forward, Atobe let go of the boy's hands, arms wrapping tightly around his petite waist while Jirou's fingers ran down his back and his teeth nibbled at his bottom lip.

When Jirou whimpered and applied more pressure, Atobe pulled back, panting slightly and stared down at the curly haired blonde. The flushed cheeks and small huffs were too cute and mix that with the slightly glazed over, wide, brown eyes, Atobe found that he was staring down at a temptingly sweet angel. Or at least, that was the image in his mind.

Atobe cleared his throat with a cough and stepped away, breathing and heart beginning to calm the further away he got from the small boy.

Jirou blinked, mouth slightly agape. "Wow…" he stated slowly, staring awestruck up at Atobe. "You're a very good kisser, Kei-chan."

The man fought off a chuckle. "You aren't so bad either, Jirou. You could use a little practice though." He added thoughtfully, a small, sly smirk appearing on his face. "Ore-sama would—of course—be your instructor."

Jirou blushed. "Anou… I think… that would be okay. If it were you, I mean!" he bit his lip shyly. "When… when would be our first… lesson?"

Atobe raised an eyebrow, eyeing the blonde. This boy definitely had many personalities, and he was looking forward to getting to know them all. "Right now if you want, Jirou."

Nodding excitedly, Jirou beamed when Atobe took his hand and led him back inside of his bedroom, shutting the curtains behind them. Yes, he could defintely get used to this.

* * *

"Why do you look so happy?" Gakuto asked before class when they went back to school for the next week. Of course he was happy that his friend (and secret person he was in love with) was happy, but for some reason, he couldn't help but feel as if something had happened that he wouldn't like, even if it did make Jirou happy.

Jirou smiled mysteriously. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Gakuto gave him a desperate look and Jirou sighed and sat down. "I'll tell you later when there aren't going to be people around to hear." He sighed dreamily. "And then I can tell you everything that happened since my birthday."

The redhead pursed his lips and gave a relutant nod before turning around as the sensei started class. He rested his head on his hand. Gakuto didn't know now whether he wanted to know or not. But—since it was Jirou—he wanted to know everything about him.

When it was time for break, Gakuto hurriedly packed his stuff away and woke Jirou, staring at him as he bounced on his feet, not being able to keep still in his anticipation. "Jirou," he pouted. "It's break, now tell me!"

The blonde sighed and stood slowly. "Okay," suddenly he grinned and tugged on Gakuto's arm. "Come on! I wanna tell you _everything_."

And as Gakuto listened when they had gotten to their spot beneath their tree, he wished he hadn't asked even though he was sure that he still would've been told. He frowned sadly, flinching as the excited words struck through him painfully.

"He's such a good kisser and he's so sweet, at least he is to me. I told him about Ichirou and Yuki and he comforted me." Jirou giggled and blushed, staring up at the cloudless sky. "I stayed the night at his house and he leant me a shirt for me to wear and I also slept in my boxers. The shirt was really big though and it kept falling off of my shoulders, but either way the bed was so comfy! I just wanted to jump and snuggle into it! I did snuggle into Kei-chan though… oh, yeah, he said I could call him Keigo but I call him Kei-chan and he doesn't seem to mind. Yay!"

Jirou went on and Gakuto tried to tune out the words but found it nearly impossible. He closed his eyes as something stung at them, hands fisting in his lap. He couldn't breath, his heart felt like it was about to be torn out of his chest. Jaw clenching, he shook his head. Why was it this person? Why him? Why couldn't it… why couldn't Jirou pick him? Gakuto? For some reason, it just didn't seem fair…

"—and then he said that I was a pretty good kisser but that I needed practice and that he would be my instructor in kissing. The lesson ended up being two hours." Jirou giggled in excitement. "I never knew kissing could be so much fu—Gakuto? Are you okay?" the blonde asked, looking over at his sobbing best friend in worry.

Gakuto winced almost unnoticably as a small hand was placed on his shoulder. Hurriedly, he wiped the tears streaming down his face away. "Um… no actually. I think I'm coming down with something. I'm going to go to the nurse's office." He avoided Jirou's gaze and shouldered his bag, standing quietly.

Jirou frowned heavily. "Do you want me to go wi—"

"No!" Gakuto exclaimed, drawing the attention of wondering students. "I mean no thank you, Jirou. I think I'm going to go home actually. I really don't… feel very well. I'll… see you later." The dancer spun around and almost ran from into the school, a bewildered blonde stared after him.

Pursing his lips slightly, Jirou tilted his head, resting it on his knees and quietly asked himself aloud, "What's wrong with Gakuto?"

-

"Gakuto?" his father asked when they got home, a deep frown on his face. "You aren't really sick, are you?"

The redhead frowned and paused on the stairs, not looking down at his father. "It's nothing much, tou-san. I… I just needed to get away from school for the day. I'll be fine tomorrow."

Mukahi Kuota sighed and shook his head. "I don't care if you aren't actually sick, Gakuto, I'm just worried. You are my son and you've… not been yourself lately. I just want to make sure everything is fine." He replied, a little out of his comfort zone. If only Mayu was there instead. She'd know what to say. He never was one to… speak much. Gakuto was always more like his mother then him anyways. In fact, so was Kenta and Miki.

Gakuto clenched his jaw in annoyance. "Fine? Everything is perfectly fine, tou-san! Please don't bother yourself with trying to figure out why I fucking feel as if I just got my heart ran over by a train four fucking million times over!" he screamed as he stomped up the stairs, slamming his door to his room.

After a moment of silence and thought, Kuota sighed and shook his head, fingers rubbing the bridge of nose. Mayu had warned him about this, but he had never actually thought it would be possible. But he honestly couldn't bring himself to care about that at the moment. The only thing he was able to bring himself to care about at that time was the sound of his oldest son sobbing his heart and screaming his lungs out into his pillow.

* * *

"—and then he said he wasn't feeling well and went home." Jirou frowned as he retold the story to Atobe over the phone later that night.

Atobe sighed, almost wanting to wince in pity for that other boy. Jirou may have been an adorable, little blonde, and rather observent, but at other times he was figuring out he could be painfully oblivious. Atobe couldn't stop himself for feeling bad for Jirou's friend. "Ore-sama is sure that he honestly just wasn't feeling well and will be fine tomorrow." Atobe lied, after all, it wasn't any of _his _business and he wasn't a person who liked to get in the middle of other people's drama, even if it _did _have a little to do with his… sort of lover. It just wasn't his place to tell the blonde.

Jirou sighed on the other end of the phone. "I guess, but I'm worried! Gakuto has been acting weird lately and him acting weirdly just isn't him! What do I do? I'm his best friend! That means I have to do _something_!"

"Jirou," Atobe began, leaning into his chair. "If Mukahi-kun thinks that you should do something, he'd tell you. Ore-sama doesn't think he wants your help with whatever is bugging him."

"B-but," Jirou pouted. "I want to help him. Isn't that what friends are for."

Atobe paused in his thoughts. "Ore-sama wouldn't know. The only real friend ore-sama has ever had is Oshitari and he… isn't one ore-sama would be willing to help."

"Eh?" Jirou asked incrediously. "But he's your friend, isn't he, Kei-chan?"

The silver haired man gave a small cough, thinking on the annoying Kansai singer. "If you want to call it that… ore-sama just can't think of another word for it…"

Jirou gave a small smile. "Well, I'm your friend, Kei-chan!"

Atobe chuckled in amusement, lowering his voice slightly. "Oh, Jirou, I think our relationship has passed friend status already." The blonde blushed at the slight purr in the older man's voice. "Why don't you come over again this weekend? Ore-sama will give you another… lesson."

Closing his eyes as his body seemed to heat up, Jirou let out a slow breath, nodding before remembering that he couldn't be seen and replied, "Hai… K-Kei-chan. What will… this lesson be?"

He thought for a moment. "Touching… and of course some more kissing."

Jirou whimpered. "Oh… okay then… I—I look forward to this weekend then, Kei-chan." He really couldn't wait for the weekend to come.

-

"Ohayo!" Gakuto stated with a large grin on his face the next morning.

Jirou blinked in shock. Maybe Kei-chan had been right about Gakuto being fine the next day? At least, he hoped that Kei-chan had been right. "Are you feeling better, Gakuto?"

Gakuto nodded and sat down. "Yup! I think it was just the 24 hour flu or something. I'm myself today!"

The blonde beamed. "Yay! Because I've still got so much to tell you! Let's go hang out after school so that I can tell you all of it!" the redhead emotionally prepared himself for what was to come. Atobe may have been Jirou's current person to fanboy over, but he was his best friend. Jirou would choose him in the end, he just knew it.

Or, at least, he hoped he would.


End file.
